UBPARY 
.yrsiiy  of  California' 
IRVINE 


THE   BRIDAL   MARCH 


CAPTAIN    MANSANA 


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AVORKS   OF 
BJORNSTJERNE  BJORNSON 

PATRIOTS  EDITION 


The  Bridal  March 


Captain  mansana 

Translated  from  the  Norse 
By 

Ras^ius  b.  Anderson 


NEW  YORK 
DOUBLEDAY,  PAGE  &  COMPANY 


6-7/3 


Copyright,  1882, 
Bt  HOUGHTON,  MIFFLIN  &  CO. 

All  rights  reserved. 


THE   BRIDAL   MARCH 


FEEFAOE. 


"The  Bridal  March"  (Brudeslaatten;  was  pub- 
lished in  1872,  and  was  dedicated  to  Hans  Christian 
Andersen,  the  celebrated  Danish  story-teller.  This 
is  the  last  of  the  author's  peasant  novels,  and  he  will 
probably  never  produce  another.  He  has  become 
more  and  more  deeply  interested  in  the  great  social 
and  political  questions  of  the  century,  and  the  stories 
and  dramas  he  now  writes  are  imbued  with  the  pro- 
gressive spirit  of  the  age. 

The  four  striking  illustrations  in  this  volume  were 
made  expressly  for  "The  Bridal  March"  by  Nor- 
way's most  distinguished  genre  painter,  Adolf  Tide- 
mand,  who  was  born  in  1814  and  died  in  1876.  He 
made  a  specialty  of  illustrating  the  character,  cus- 
toms, and  manners  of  Norwegian  country  life,  and  in 
this  field  of  art  he  has  never  been  equaled  by  any 
other  Scandinavian  painter.  His  delineation  of  faces, 
interiors,  the  every-day  life,  and  the  solemnities 
and  festivities  of  the  Norwegian  peasantry,  8(*cured 


g  PBEFACE. 

}\\m  the  admiration  of  the  world,  and  are  as  faithful 
to  reality  as  one  of  Bjornson's  peasant  stories.  I 
doubt  not  that  the  four  illustrations  by  Tidemand  in 
this  volume  will  be  studied  with  as  much  pleasure  as 
the  Btorj  itself. 

BASMUS  B.  ANDEBSON. 

ASOAHD,  MaDIBOH,  WISCONSIN, 

Mav.  18R9- 


THE  BRIDAL   MARCH. 


Theee  dwelt  in  one  of  the  larger  mountain 
valleys  of  Norway,  some  time  during  the  last 
century,  a  fiddler,  whose  name  after  him  passed, 
in  a  measure,  into  legendary  lore.  Quite  an 
array  of  songs  and  dances  are  ascribed  to  him ; 
some  of  these,  according  to  tradition,  he  learned 
from  the  underground  folk,  one  from  the  Evil 
One  himself,  one  he  made  for  the  purpose  of 
saving  his  life,  etc.  One  of  his  tunes  has  be- 
come famous  beyond  all  the  others,  for  its  his- 
tory did  not  end  with  his  life,  it  really  began 
after  he  was  dead. 

The  fiddler,  Ole  Haugen,  a  poor  houseman 
living  far  up  the  mountain,  had  a  daughter 
named  Aslaug,  who  had  inherited  his  fine  head 
and  his  musical  talent,  if  not  for  playing  at 
least  for  everything  else  of  the  same  nature ; 
for  she  was  easy  and  self-possessed  in  conversa- 
tion, in  singing,  in  her  walk,  and  in  dancing ; 
and  had,  too,  a  very  flexible  voice,  a  common 


10  THE  BRIDAL   HABGH. 

thing  in  her  family.  The  third  son  of  the  an- 
cient house  of  Tingvold,  a  young  man,  returned 
from  distant  lands.  His  two  brothers,  both  of 
them  older  than  he,  had  been  drowned  in  a 
freshet,  and  he  was  now  heir  to  the  gard.  He 
met  Aslaug  at  a  large  wedding-party  and  fell 
in  love  with  her.  It  was  an  unheard-of  thing 
in  those  days  for  a  gardman's  son  of  so  old  and 
prominent  a  family  to  woo  one  in  Aslaug's  cir- 
cumstances and  rank  of  life.  This  young  man, 
however,  had  been  long  absent  from  home,  and 
he  gave  his  parents  to  understand  that  he  had 
ample  means  abroad  for  his  support ;  if  he 
could  not  have  what  he  wanted  at  home,  he 
said,  it  mattered  little  to  him  what  became  of 
the  gard.  It  was  universally  prophesied  that 
such  disregard  of  his  famUy  and  the  inher- 
itance of  his  forefathers,  would  bring  its  own 
punishment ;  it  was  said,  too,  that  Ole  Haugen 
must  have  influenced  him,  and  perhaps  with 
help  that  every  mortal  should  fear. 

While  the  struggle  between  the  young  man 
and  his  parents  was  going  on,  Ole  Haugen,  so 
it  is  stated,  had  been  in  the  most  excellent 
spirits.  But  when  the  victory  was  won,  he  is 
said  to  have  announced  that  he  had  already 
made  a  bridal  march  for  the  young  couple ;  it 
tould  never  by  any  possibility  be  lost  to  the 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  11 

house  of  Tingvold;  but  Heaven  Have  mercy 
on  the  bride,  he  is  furthermore  charged  with 
having  said,  who  did  not  drive  to  church  to  its 
strains  with  as  happy  a  heart  as  that  of  the 
houseman's  daughter  from  Haugen  !  And  this 
led  people  to  suspect  some  evil  influence. 

This  is  the  tradition,  and  it  is  like  so  many 
others.  But  something  more  reliable  than  tra- 
dition is  the  fact,  that  in  this  as  well  as  in  other 
mountain  parishes  there  exists,  even  to  the 
present  day,  a  lively  taste  for  music  and  bal- 
lads, and  in  past  times  it  must  have  been  still 
keener.  Such  tastes  can  only  be  preserved 
through  those  who  are  able  to  enlarge  and  em- 
bellish the  inherited  treasure-stores,  and  Ole 
Haugen  certainly  possessed  this  power  to  a  re- 
markable degree. 

Tradition  states,  furthermore,  that  as  Ole 
Haugen's  bridal  march  was  the  most  joyous 
one  that  had  ever  been  heard,  so  the  first  bride 
and  groom  that  drove  home  to  its  music,  after 
having  been  conducted  by  the  same  to  the 
church  door,  and  met  there  again  by  the  glad 
sounds  at  the  conclusion  of  the  ceremony,  were 
the  happiest  couple  that  had  ever  been  seen. 
And  although  the  Tingvold  family  had  always 
been  a  handsome  race,  and  after  this  time  be- 
came still  more  noted  for  its  beauty,  yet  leg- 


12  THE   BRIDAL   MARCH. 

endary  lore  stoutly  asserts  that  this  bridal  pah 
must  carry  off  the  palm  through  all  coming 
generations. 

We  pass  now  from  tradition  to  firmer  ground ; 
for  with  Ole  Haugen  legendary  lore  dies  ;  after 
him  history  begins.  The  latter  tells  us  that 
this  bridal  march  became  an  heir-loom  in  thi 
family,  differing  from  other  heir-looms,  which 
seldom  are  of  any  use ;  for  this  was  used,  that 
is  to  say,  the  tune  was  sung,  shouted,  whistled, 
tooted,  played  from  house  to  stable,  from  the 
home-fields  to  the  woodland  pasture ;  and  to  its 
glad  strains  the  only  child  the  couple  ever  had 
was  rocked  and  dandled  in  the  arms  of  its 
mother,  its  father,  the  nurse-maid,  and  the  resti 
of  the  household  servants ;  and  the  first  thing 
it  learned  after  its  earliest  tricks  and  words 
was  the  bridal  march.  The  child  was  called 
Astrid.  There  was  music  in  the  family,  and 
particularly  in  this  sprightly  little  girl,  who 
could  soon  sing  with  a  tra-la-la,  in  a  masterly 
way,  the  bridal  march,  the  victory  shout  of  her 
parents,  the  promise  of  her  family.  It  was,  in- 
deed, no  wonder  that  when  she  was  grown  up 
Bhe  insisted  upon  making  her  own  choice  of 
a  lover.  Perhaps  rumor  has  exaggerated  the 
number  of  Astrid's  suitors;  but  one  thing  is 
certain :    this  wealthy  girl,   with    her   refined 


THE  BRIDAL  MABCH.  13 

nature,  when  over  twenty-three  years  of  age, 
was  not  yet  betrothed.  Then  at  last  the  cause 
of  this  came  to  light !  Several  years  before  her 
mother  had  taken  in  from  the  highway  a  bright 
gypsy  lad ;  he  was  not  really  a  gypsy  lad,  but 
was  called  so,  and  especially  by  Astrid's  mother 
when  it  reached  her  ears  that  her  daughter  and 
he  had  most  strangely  entered  into  a  betrothal 
up  in  the  woodland  pasture,  and  that  now  they 
passed  their  time  in  singing  the  bridal  march 
to  each  other,  she  from  the  store-house  roof,  he 
from  the  slope  above.  The  youth  was  quickly 
sent  away;  for  now  it  appeared  that  no  one 
held  more  strictly  to  the  "  family "  than  the 
former  houseman's  daughter.  And  the  father 
could  not  help  thinking  of  the  prophecy  made 
when  he  himself  violated  the  customs  of  his 
family.  They  of  the  house  of  Tingvold  were 
already  giving  their  children  in  marriage  to 
people  from  the  highway.  Where  would  this 
end  ?  The  parish  did  not  judge  more  leniently. 
The  gypsy  lad  —  Knut  was  his  name  —  had 
taken  to  trading,  especially  in  cattle,  and  was 
Known  to  every  one.  He  was  the  first  person 
in  this  parish,  indeed  for  miles  round,  who  had 
gone  into  the  business  on  so  large  a  scale.  He 
opened  this  avenue  of  trade,  and  thus  procured 
for  the  parishes  better  prices  for  their  stock, 


14  THE  BRIDAL   MARCH. 

and  increased  the  wealth  of  many  a  family. 
But  this  did  not  prevent  carousing  and  fight- 
ing from  following  in  his  footsteps  wherever  he 
went,  and  this  was  the  only  thing  that  people 
talked  about ;  for  his  worth  as  a  trader  they  did 
not  yet  imderstand.  By  the  time  Astrid  was 
twenty-three  years  old,  it  had  become  pretty 
evident  that  either  the  gard  must  pass  out  of 
the  direct  line  of  descent,  or  this  man  would 
have  to  be  taken  into  it ;  for  Astrid's  parents 
had,  through  their  own  marriage,  lost  the  moral 
power  which  might  have  enabled  them  to  take 
compulsory  measures.  So  Astrid  had  her  way  : 
the  lively,  handsome  Knut  drove  to  church 
with  her  one  fine  day,  at  the  head  of  an  im- 
mense procession.  The  bridal  march  of  the 
house  of  Tiugvold,  the  grandfather's  master- 
piece, flashed  back  over  the  train  of  followers, 
and  the  young  couple  sat  as  though  they  were 
joining  in  the  merry  tune  with  a  low  tra-la-la, 
for  they  looked  very  blithe  and  gay.  People 
were  astonished  to  see  that  the  parents  also 
seemed  in  good  spirits  ;  they  had  made  such 
long  and  persevering  resistance. 

After  the  wedding,  Knut  undertook  the  man- 
agement of  the  farm,  and  the  old  people  had  a 
yearly  allowance  made  them ;  but  this  was  so 
large  that  no  one  could  understand  how  Knut 


THE  BRIDAL  MABCH.  16 

and  Astrid  were  able  to  afford  it ;  for  although 
the  gard  was  the  largest  in  the  parish,  it  was 
far  from  being  in  a  good  condition.  Nor  was 
this  all ;  the  working  force  was  increased  three- 
fold, and  new  methods  were  introduced  at  an 
expense  hitherto  unheard  of  in  that  region. 
Certain  ruin  was  predicted  for  him.  But  the 
"gypsy  lad,"  as  Knut  was  still  called,  main- 
tained his  cheerfulness,  and  his  high  spirits  in- 
jected Astrid.  The  delicate,  shy  maiden  of 
yore  had  become  a  stirring,  robust  housewife. 
Her  parents  were  consoled.  At  last  people 
began  to  find  out  that  Knut  had  brought  to 
Tingvold  what  no  one  had  had  there  before  : 
capital  for  carrying  on  the  farming  1  He  had, 
moreover,  brought  large  experience  from  his 
rambling  life,  besides  a  faculty  for  handling 
merchandise  and  money,  and  for  keeping  la- 
borers and  servants  good-natured  and  cheerful ; 
and  so  at  the  end  of  twelve  years  Tingvold 
could  scarcely  have  been  recognized.  The 
houses  were  entirely  changed,  the  farm  stock 
was  increased  threefold,  and  was  three  times 
better  kept  than  before,  and  Knut  himself  in  a 
dress-coat,  with  a  "  meerschaum  pipe,"  and  a 
glass  of  toddy,  passed  his  evenings  with  the 
captain,  the  priest,  and  the  lensmand.  Astrid 
adored  him  as  the  wisest  and  best  man  on  earth ; 


16  THE  BRIDAL  MARCH. 

and  she  herself  told  that  in  his  youth  he  now  and 
then  got  into  fights  and  drank  too  much,  simply 
that  rumors  of  his  doings  might  reach  her  ears 
and  alarm  her  ;  "  for  he  was  such  a  shrewd  fel- 
low." She  followed  his  example  in  everything, 
except  in  making  a  change  in  her  dress  and 
habits  ;  she  preferred  keeping  to  the  peasant 
customs  and  dress.  Knut  always  allowed  others 
to  follow  their  own  mclinations ;  and  so  no  dis- 
cord entered  his  home  because  of  Astrid'a 
wishes.  He  lived  his  own  way  and  she  waited 
on  him.  It  was  a  frugal  life  he  led,  be  it  ob- 
served ;  he  was  too  sensible  to  care  to  make  a 
great  noise  or  to  incur  heavy  expense.  Some 
said  that  he  made  at  card-playing,  and  through 
the  importance  and  associations  it  opened  to 
him,  more  than  it  cost  him  to  live ;  but  this 
was  doubtless  mere  scandal. 

They  had  several  children,  whose  history  does 
not  concern  us  ;  but  the  eldest  son,'  Endrid,  who 
was  to  succeed  to  the  gard,  was  also  expected 
to  increase  its  honors.  He  was  handsome,  like 
all  the  rest  of  his  family;  but  his  mind  was 
only  adapted  to  common-place  affairs,  as  may 
often  be  observed  in  the  children  of  enterpris- 
ing parents.  His  father  early  noticed  this, 
and  resolved  to  supply  the  boy's  deficiencies 
through  a  superior  education.     For  this  reason 


THE  BRIDAL   MARCH.  17 

the  children  had  a  private  tutor  ;  aud  Endrid, 
when  grown,  was  sent  to  one  of  the  agricultural 
schools,  which  at  this  time  were  just  being  im- 
proved, and  later  to  the  city.  He  came  home 
again  a  quiet  boy,  who  showed  marks  of  over- 
study,  and  who  had  fewer  city  habits  than 
could  have  been  anticipated,  or  than  his  father 
desired.  Endrid  was,  in  fact,  by  no  means 
quick  at  learning. 

Numerous  were  the  speculations  made  on 
this  boy,  both  by  the  captain  and  the  priest, 
each  of  whom  had  several  daughters ;  but  if 
this  were  the  cause  of  the  increased  considera- 
tion they  showed  Knut,  they  deceived  them- 
selves very  badly  indeed,  for  Knut  so  thor- 
oughly despised  a  marriage  with  a  poor  cap- 
tain's or  priest's  daughter,  who  was  without 
preparation  for  the  management  of  the  affairs 
of  a  large  gard,  that  he  did  not  even  deem  it 
worth  his  while  to  warn  his  son.  Nor  was  it 
needful  that  he  should :  the  young  man  saw  as 
clearly  as  he  that  the  family  required  something 
more  than  merely  being  raised  to  prosperity, 
and  that  it  must  now  mingle  with  the  blood  of 
those  who  were  its  equals  in  age  and  respecta- 
bility. But  the  misfortune  was  that  the  youth 
was  somewhat  awkward  when  he  went  on  his 
matrimonial  errands,  and  people  mistrusted  him. 
8 


mS  the  bridal  maboh. 

This  might  not  have  made  so  much  difference 
had  he  not  gained  the  reputation  of  being  on 
the  lookout  for  a  good  match,  and  peasants  are 
always  shy  of  one  of  whom  such  things  are 
said.  Endrid  himself  soon  noticed  this ;  for  if 
he  was  not  very  shrewd,  he  was,  on  the  other 
hand,  extremely  sensitive.  He  perceived  that 
it  in  nowise  bettered  his  situation  that  he  had 
the  clothes  and  manners  of  the  city,  as  people 
said.  And  as  at  bottom  there  was  something 
really  worthy  in  thie  boy,  the  effect  of  his  mor 
tification  was  that  he  gradually  laid  aside  his 
city  dress  and  city  speech  and  set  to  work  on 
his  father's  immense  gard,  like  any  common 
laborer.  His  father  understood  it  all ;  indeed, 
he  knew  before  the  young  man  understood  it 
himself,  and  he  begged  the  boy's  mother  not  to 
appear  to  notice  anything.  Therefore  they  said 
nothing  to  their  son  about  marriage,  and  no 
further  heed  was  paid  to  the  change  which  had 
taken  place  in  him,  than  that  his  father,  with 
ever-increasing  kindness  of  manner,  admitted 
him  to  his  plans  about  the  farming  and  other 
family  concerns,  and  gradually  placed  the  en- 
tire management  of  the  gard  in  his  son's  hands. 
He  never  had  cause  to  regret  having  done  so. 

Thus  matters  stood  with  the  son  until  he  was 
jhirty-one  years  old,  having  increased  his  fa^ 


THE  BBIDAL  MARCH.  19 

ther's  property  and  his  own  experience  and  pru- 
dence. During  all  this  time  he  had  made  no 
attempt,  no,  not  the  slightest,  to  court  any  of 
the  girls  in  or  out  of  the  parish,  and  now  his 
parents  began  to  grow  seriously  uneasy  lest  he 
had  entirely  put  marriage  out  of  his  head. 
But  this  he  had  not  done. 

In  the  neighboring  gard  there  lived,  in  good 
circumstances,  a  family  of  the  best  blood  in  the 
parish,  and  one  that  had  several  times,  too,  in- 
termarried with  the  ancient  house  of  Tingvold. 
There  grew  up  there  a  young  girl,  in  whom 
Endrid  had  taken  an  interest  from  the  time 
she  was  a  little  child  ;  very  likely  he  had  in  se- 
cret set  his  heart  on  her,  for  only  half  a  year 
after  her  confirmation  he  offered  himself  to  her. 
She  was  seventeen  years  old,  he  thirty-one. 
Kandi,  that  was  her  name,  could  not  at  once 
nake  up  her  mind  what  answer  she  should  give 
lim ;  she  went  to  her  parents  about  it,  but  they 
told  her  they  would  leave  it  entirely  to  herself. 
They  thought  Endrid  was  a  most  worthy  man, 
and  that,  as  far  as  property  went,  this  was  the 
best  match  she  could  make.  The  difference  in 
age  was  great,  and  she  must  herself  decide 
whether  she,  young  as  she  was,  had  the  cour- 
age to  assume  the  responsibilities  of  the  lai^ 
gard  and  the  many  unfamiliar  duties.     Randi 


20  THE  BRIDAL  MABCH. 

knew  very  well  that  her  parents  would  rathei 
have  her  say  Yes  than  No ;  but  she  was  really 
alarmed.  So  she  went  over  to  see  Endrid's 
mother,  whom  she  had  always  liked.  She  took 
it  for  granted  that  his  mother  knew  of  his  suit, 
but  found  to  her  astonishment  that  she  knew 
nothing  about  it.  The  good  mother  was  so  de- 
lighted that  she  used  all  her  powers  of  persua- 
sion to  induce  Randi  to  say  Yes. 

"  I  will  help  you,"  said  she.  "  Father  will 
not  accept  any  annuity  ;  he  has  his  own  means, 
and  he  does  not  want  his  children  to  grudge 
him  his  life.  There  will  at  once  be  a  general 
division  of  the  property,  and  the  little  which 
we  shall  hereafter  have  for  our  support  will 
then  be  divided  after  we  are  gone.  From  this 
you  can  judge  that  you  will  not  be  taking  on 
yourself  any  annoyances  so  far  as  we  are  con- 
cerned." 

Yes,  Randi  knew  very  well  that  Astrid  and 
Knut  were  kind. 

"  And  our  boy,"  continued  Astrid,  "  is  good 
and  considerate." 

Yes,  Randi  had  learned  that  for  herself  j  she 
was  not  afraid  of  getting  on  with  him  —  if  she 
were  only  worthy  herself. 

A  few  days  later  the  matter  was  settled,  and 
if  Endrid  was  happy,  so  too  were  his  purciuts 


THE  BBIDAL  MABCH.  21 

for  he  was  about  to  marry  into  a  highly-es- 
teemed family,  and  the  girl  herself  was  so  pretty 
and  so  sensible  that  in  those  respects  there  had 
perhaps  never  been  a  better  match  in  the  par- 
ish. The  old  people  of  both  families  conferred 
together  about  the  wedding,  which  was  arranged 
to  take  place  just  before  harvest,  for  there  was 
no  occasion  for  waiting  in  this  case. 

The  parish,  meanwhile,  did  not  receive  these 
tidings  in  the  same  manner  as  the  parties  inter- 
ested. It  was  thought  that  the  pretty  young 
girl  had  "  sold  herself."  She  was  so  young  that 
she  could  scarcely  know  what  marriage  meant, 
and  the  wily  Knut  had  no  doubt  urged  his  son 
on  before  the  girl  was  as  yet  ready  for  suitors. 
A  little  of  this  talk  reached  Randi's  ears,  but 
Endrid  was  so  affectionate,  and  that  in  such  a 
quiet,  almost  humble  way,  that  she  would  not 
break  with  him,  yet  she  grew  rather  cold. 
The  parents  of  both  had  no  doubt  also  heard 
one  thing  and  another,  but  acted  as  though  all 
were  well. 

The  marriage  was  to  be  celebrated  in  grand 
Btyle,  perhaps  just  to  defy  gossip,  and  for  that 
same  reason  the  preparations  were  not  displeas- 
ing to  Randi.  Knut's  associates,  the  priest, 
the  captain,  and  the  lensmand,  with  the  whole 
of  their  large  families,  were  to  accompany  the 


22  THE  BRIDAL   MARCH. 

bridal  party  to  church.  That  was  why  Knut 
did  not  wish  any  fiddling  —  it  was  too  old-fash- 
ioned and  countrified  ;  but  Astrid  insisted  that 
the  bridal  march  of  the  family  must  conduct 
the  young  couple  to  church  and  thence  back 
home  again ;  they  had  been  too  happy  with  it 
themselves,  she  said,  not  to  have  the  satisfac- 
tion of  enjoying  its  repetition  on  the  marriage 
day  of  their  dear  children.  Knut  did  not 
trouble  himself  much  about  poetry  and  things 
of  that  sort ;  he  let  his  wife  settle  the  matter. 
A  hint  was  given  to  the  bride's  parents,  there- 
fore, that  the  fiddlers  might  be  engaged,  and 
the  old  march,  which  had  been  allowed  to  rest 
for  a  while,  because  the  present  representatives 
of  the  family  worked  without  song,  was  re 
quested. 

The  wedding  day  unfortunately  set  in  with 
a  furious  autumnal  rain.  The  fiddlers  were 
forced  to  cover  up  their  instruments  after  hav- 
ing played  the  party  out  of  the  gard,  and  they 
did  not  bring  them  forth  again  until  they  had 
gone  far  enough  to  hear  the  church-bells  ring- 
ing. A  boy  was  obliged  to  stand  behind  them 
on  the  cart  holding  an  umbrella  over  them,  and 
beneath  it  they  sat  huddled  together,  scraping 
away.  The  march  did  not  sound  well  in  such 
weather,  as  might  be  expected,  neither  did  th« 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  23 

bridal  party  that  followed  look  happy.  The 
bridegroom  had  his  wedding  hat  tucked  away 
between  his  knees,  and  a  southwester  on  his 
head ;  he  had  a  large  leathern  jacket  drawn 
over  his  shoulders,  and  he  held  an  umbrella  over 
the  bride,  who  had  kerchief  upon  kerchief 
wrapped  about  her  to  protect  her  crown  and 
the  rest  of  her  finery,  and  who  had  rather  the 
appearance  of  a  hay-mow  than  a  human  being. 
Thus  they  drove  on,  cart  after  cart,  the  men 
dripping,  the  women  bundled  up  and  concealed 
from  view  ;  it  was  a  mysterious  sort  of  a  bridal 
party,  in  which  not  a  face  could  be  seen  or  rec- 
ognized, only  a  quantity  of  rolled  up  heaps  of 
wool  or  fur  stowed  closely  together.  The  un- 
usually great  throng  that  had  gathered  along 
the  road-side  to  see  the  wealthy  bridal  party 
pass  by  had  to  laugh,  at  first  in  suppressed 
tones,  but  finally  louder  and  louder,  as  each 
cart  passed.  Near  the  large  house  where  the 
party  had  to  alight  to  arrange  their  dress  be- 
fore entering  the  church,  a  peddler,  a  droll  fel- 
low, whose  name  was  Aslak,  was  standing  on  a 
hay-cart  which  had  driven  out  of  the  way  into 
the  corner  by  the  shed.  Just  as  the  bride  was 
being  lifted  out  of  the  cart,  he  shouted,  — 

"  The  deuce  a  bit  will  Ole  Haugen's  bridal 
march  sound  to-day  I  " 


24  THE   BRIDAL  MARCH. 

A  laugh  arose  in  the  crowd,  and  the  almost 
universal  effort  to  suppress  this  only  made  it 
the  more  apparent  what  every  one  thought  and 
was  striving  to  conceal. 

When  the  kerchiefs  were  removed  from  the 
bride,  they  saw  that  she  was  as  white  as  a 
sheet.  She  wept,  tried  to  laugh,  then  wept 
again,  and  then  all  at  once  she  took  it  into  her 
head  that  she  would  not  go  to  church !  Amid 
the  commotion  that  now  followed,  she  had  to 
be  laid  down  on  a  bed  in  a  side-room,  for  she 
was  seized  with  a  fit  of  weeping  that  alarmed 
every  one.  Her  worthy  parents  stood  by,  and 
when  she  implored  them  to  spare  her  from 
going  into  church,  they  said  that  she  must  do 
as  she  pleased.  Then  her  eyes  sought  Endrid. 
Any  one  so  unhappy,  aye,  so  utterly  helpless, 
she  had  never  seen,  for  to  him  there  had  been 
truth  in  their  compact.  At  his  side  stood  his 
mother ;  she  said  nothing  and  not  a  muscle  of 
her  face  moved.  But  tear  after  tear  trickled 
down  her  cheeks ;  her  eyes  hung  on  Randi's. 
At  last  Randi  raised  herself  up  on  her  elbows, 
stared  for  a  while  right  before  her,  sobbing 
through  her  tears,  and  presently  she  said,  — 

"  Oh  yes !  I  will  go  to  church." 

Then  flinging  herself  back  on  the  pillow 
fegain,  she  wept  for  a  time,  bitterly  j  but  after 


THE  BBIDAL  MABOH.  25 

this  she  rose.  Later  she  added,  that  she  did 
not  want  any  more  music,  and  she  was  allowed 
to  have  her  way.  But  the  dismissed  fiddlers 
did  not  improve  the  story  when  they  mingled 
with  the  crowd  outside. 

It  was  a  sorry  bridal  procession  which  now 
moved  toward  the  church.  The  rain,  of  course, 
permitted  the  bride  and  bridegroom  to  hide 
their  faces  from  the  curiosity  of  the  multitude 
mitil  they  entered  the  church;  but  they  felt 
that  they  were  running  the  gauntlet  and  that 
their  own  large  company  were  ill  pleased  at 
having  been  deluded  into  taking  part  in  such  a 
fool's  errand. 

The  famous  fiddler,  Ole  Haugen,  was  buried 
close  by  the  church  door.  By  common  consent 
his  grave  had  been  protected :  one  of  his  family 
had  placed  a  new  head-board  there,  as  the  old 
one  had  decayed  around  the  bottom.  The 
head-board  was  shaped  like  a  wheel  at  the  top, 
Ole  himself  had  left  orders  to  have  it  so.  The 
grave  was  on  a  sunny  spot,  and  coimtless  wild 
flowers  grew  there.  Every  church-goer  that 
had  ever  stood  by  this  grave,  knew,  from  one 
source  or  another,  that  a  man  who  at  state  ex- 
pense had  been  collecting  plants  and  flowers  in 
the  surrounding  villages  and  mountains,  had 
found  flowers  on  this  grave  which  did  not  grow 


26  THE   BRIDAL  MARCH. 

for  miles  around.  The  effect  was,  that  the 
peasants  who  usually  cared  little  for  what  they 
called  "  weeds,"  felt  an  inquisitive  delight  in 
these  flowers,  perhaps  too,  an  inquisitive  shy- 
ness ;  some  of  the  flowers  were  uncommonly 
pretty.  Now  as  the  bridal  pair  walked  past 
this  grave,  Endrid,  who  held  Randi  by  the 
hand,  noticed  that  a  shudder  ran  through  her ; 
for  it  seemed  to  her  that  Ole  Haugen's  ghost 
had  been  walking  to-day.  Immediately  after- 
ward her  tears  began  to  flow  again,  conse- 
quently she  entered  the  church  weeping,  and 
was  led  weeping  to  her  seat.  Thus  no  bride 
had  been  known  to  come  into  this  church  in 
the  memory  of  man. 

Randi  felt,  as  she  sat  there,  that  she  was  now 
confirming  the  rumor  that  was  afloat  about  her 
having  been  sold.  The  terrible  disgrace  to  her 
parents  that  there  was  in  this,  caused  her  to 
grow  cold  and  for  a  while  to  be  able  to  restrain 
her  tears.  But  at  the  altar  she  became  agi- 
tated again  over  some  remark  or  other  of  the 
priest,  and  at  once  all  that  she  had  experienced 
this  day  rushed  upon  her ;  it  seemed  to  her  for 
a  time  as  though  she  could  never  look  people 
in  the  eyes  again,  least  of  all  her  parents. 

All  the  rest  is  but  a  repetition  of  what  we 
have  been  over,  and  therefore  there  is  nothing 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  27 

further  to  report  except  that  she  could  not  sit 
down  to  dinner  with  the  company,  and  when 
entreaties  and  threats  brought  her  to  the  sup- 
per-table she  spoiled  all  pleasure  there  and  had 
to  be  taken  to  bed.  The  wedding  party  that 
was  to  have  lasted  several  days,  broke  up  that 
Bame  evening,  "  The  bride  was  ill,"  it  was  an- 
nounced. 

Although  no  one  believed  this,  it  was,  never- 
theless, but  too  true.  Randi  was  no  longer 
well,  nor  was  she  ever  very  hearty  again.  And 
one  of  the  results  was  that  the  first  child  of 
this  couple  was  sickly.  The  love  of  the  parents 
for  this  little  one  was  naturally  none  the  less 
devoted,  because  they  both  understood  that 
they  were,  in  a  certain  way,  responsible  for  its 
Buffering.  They  associated  with  no  one  except 
this  child ;  to  church  they  never  went ;  they 
were  afraid  of  people.  For  two  years  God 
granted  them  their  happiness  with  their  child, 
and  then  He  took  this  too. 

The  first  clear  thought  they  could  command 
after  this  blow  was  that  they  had  been  too  fond 
of  the  child.  That  was  why  they  had  lost  it. 
And  so  when  another  child  was  born  unto 
them,  it  seemed  as  if  neither  of  them  dared  be- 
Btow  much  affection  on  it.  But  the  child,  who 
In  the  beginning  appeared  as  sickly  as  the  first, 


28  THE  BBIDAL  MABCH. 

revived,  and  became  much  more  sprightly  than 
he  other  had  been,  so  that  its  charmfl  were 
irresistible.  A  new,  pure  joy  entered  their 
hearts;  they  could  forget  what  had  befallen 
them  when  they  were  with  their  child.  When 
the  little  one  was  two  years  old,  God  took  it 
also. 

There  are  some  people  who  are  singled  out 
Vy  sorrow.  They  are  just  the  very  ones  who 
seem  to  us  least  to  need  it,  but  they  are,  never- 
theless, best  fitted  to  bear  testimony  of  faith 
and  seLf-deuial.  This  couple  had  early  sought 
God  together ;  henceforth  their  sole  communion 
was  with  Him.  There  had  long  been  a  hush 
over  life  at  Tingvold,  now  it  became  like  a 
church  before  the  priest  enters.  Work  went  on 
undisturbed,  but  between  every  hour  oi  labor 
EndriJ  and  Randi  had  a  little  time  of  devotion, 
in  which  they  communed  with  those  on  tho 
other  side.  It  caused  no  change  when,  shortly 
after  the  last  loss,  Randi  gave  birth  to  a  daugh- 
ter ;  the  two  children  who  had  died  were  sons, 
and  a  girl  was  for  this  reason  hardly  acceptable 
to  the  parents.  Moreover,  they  knew  not  if 
she  would  be  spared  to  them.  But  the  health 
and  happiness  the  mother  had  enjoyed  just  be- 
fore the  loss  of  the  last  boy  had  been  of  advan- 
tage to  the  child  she  was  then  expecting  j  it 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  29 

early  proved  to  be  an  unusually  lively  little 
girl,  with  the  mother's  fair  face  in  the  bud. 
The  temptation  again  came  over  these  two 
lonely  people  to  cling  to  their  child  with  hope 
and  joy  ;  but  the  fateful  two  years  had  not  yet 
come,  and  when  it  did  arrive,  it  seemed  to  them 
as  if  they  had  merely  gained  a  respite.  They 
dared  not  yield  to  their  feelings. 

The  two  old  people  had  held  themselves 
much  aloof.  For  the  mood  that  controlled  the 
others  could  be  approached  neither  with  words 
of  consolation  nor  with  the  joys  of  others. 
Knut  was,  moreover,  too  fond  of  worldly  pleas- 
ure to  remain  long  in  a  house  of  mourning  or 
to  be  forever  taking  part  in  devotional  exer- 
cises. So  he  moved  over  to  a  small  farm  which 
he  owned,  and  which  he  hitherto  had  rented ; 
now  he  took  it  himself  and  put  it  in  such  fine, 
tasteful  order  for  his  dear  Astrid  that  she,  who 
would  greatly  have  preferred  being  at  Ting- 
void,  remained  where  he  was,  and  laughed  with 
him  instead  of  weeping  with  their  children. 

One  day  when  Astrid  went  over  to  visit  her 
daughter-in-law,  she  saw  little  Mildred,  and  she 
observed  that  the  child  was  left  entirely  to  her- 
self; the  mother  scarcely  ventured  to  touch  her. 
Moreover,  the  grandmother  noticed  that  when 
the  father  came  in,  he  manifested  the  same  sor- 


80  THE  BRIDAL   MARCH. 

rowf ul  reserve  toward  his  only  child.  Astrid 
concealed  her  thoughts,  but  when  she  got  home 
to  her  own  dear  Knut,  she  represented  to  him 
what  a  wretched  state  of  affairs  there  was  at 
Tingvold ;  there  was  now  their  place.  Little 
Mildred  ought  to  have  some  one  who  was  not 
afraid  to  take  pleasure  in  her;  for  there  was 
growing  up  something  very  fine  and  fair  for 
the  family  in  this  child.  Knut  was  impressed 
by  his  wife's  eager  zeal,  and  both  the  old  peo- 
ple packed  up  and  went  home. 

Mildred  thus  became  the  special  care  of  the 
grandparents,  and  the  old  people  taught  the 
parents  to  love  the  child.  But  when  Mildred 
was  five  years  old  there  was  born  to  the  house 
another  daughter,  who  was  named  Beret,  and 
the  result  was  that  Mildred  passed  most  of  her 
time  with  the  old  people. 

Now  the  frightened  parents  once  more  began 
to  dare  believe  in  life  !  To  this  the  change  in 
the  atmosphere  about  them  contributed  not  a 
little.  After  the  loss  of  the  second  child  peo- 
ple always  noticed  that  they  had  wept,  but 
never  saw  them  in  tears  ;  their  sorrow  was  very 
unobtrusive. 

The  peaceful,  pious  life  at  Tingvold,  bound 
the  servants  to  the  place ;  and  many  words  ol 
praise  oi  the  master  and  mistress  were  spoken 


THE   BRIDAL  MARCH.  31 

abroad.  They  became  sensible  of  this  them- 
selves. Both  relatives  and  friends  began  to 
seek  them  out  and  continued  to  do  so,  even 
though  the  Tingvold  family  made  no  return. 

But  at  church  they  had  not  been  since  their 
wedding-day.  They  partook  of  the  sacrament 
at  home,  and  conducted  their  own  devotional 
services.  But  when  the  second  girl  was  born 
they  felt  a  desire  to  be  her  sponsors  themselves, 
so  for  the  first  time  they  ventured  to  church. 
Upon  this  occasion  they  visited  together  the 
graves  of  their  children,  and  they  walked  past 
Ole  Haugen's  resting-place  without  a  word  or 
a  gesture,  and  all  the  people  showed  them  re- 
spect. Nevertheless,  they  continued  to  live  to 
themselves,  and  a  pious  hush  lay  over  the  whole 
gard. 

Here  one  day,  at  her  grandmother's  house, 
little  Mildred  sang  the  bridal  march.  In  great 
alarm  old  Astrid  stopped  her  work  and  asked 
the  child  where  in  all  the  world  she  had  learned 
this  tune.  Mildred  replied  that  she  had  learned 
it  of  her. 

Old  Knut  who  was  sitting  there  had  a  good 
laugh  at  this,  for  he  knew  very  well  that  As- 
trid had  a  habit  of  humming  it  when  she  had 
any  work  that  kept  her  sitting  still.  But  now 
(ittle  Mildred  was  begged  by  both  grandpar 


82  THE   BRIDAL  MAECH. 

eiits  not  to  sing  the  tune  when  her  parents  could 
hear.  A  child  is  very  apt  to  ask  "  why  ?  "  But 
when  Mildred  did  so,  she  received  no  reply. 
After  this  the  little  girl  heard  the  new  herd-boy 
singing  the  tune  one  evening  while  he  was 
chopping  wood.  She  told  this  to  her  grand- 
mother who  had  also  heard  it ;  but  Astrid  only 
remarked:  "Ah,  he  will  never  grow  old  here! " 
and  sure  enough,  the  next  day  the  boy  was  sent 
away.  There  was  no  reason  given  him ;  he  sim- 
ply was  paid  his  wages  and  dismissed.  Now 
Mildred  became  so  excited  that  her  grand- 
mother had  to  endeavor  to  tell  her  the  history 
of  the  bridal  march.  The  little  eight-years  old 
girl  understood  it  pretty  well,  and  what  she 
did  not  understand  then  became  clear  to  her 
later.  The  story  exercised  on  her  childhood  an 
influence  which  nothing  else  ever  did  or  could 
produce :  it  laid  the  foundation  for  her  future 
relations  to  her  parents. 

Children  have  an  astonishingly  early  per- 
ception of  and  sympathy  for  those  who  are 
unhappy.  Mildred  felt  that  in  the  presence  of 
her  parents  all  should  be  still.  This  was  not 
difiicult  to  put  into  practice ;  for  they  were  so 
gentle  and  talked  to  her  so  incessantly  about 
the  kind  heavenly  Friend  of  little  children,  that 
the  room  glowed  with  a  magic  light.     But  the 


THE   BRIDAL  MARCH.  33 

story  of  the  bridal  marcli  gave  her  a  touching 
comprehension  of  what  they  had  passed  through. 
Painful  memories  she  carefully  avoided,  and 
manifested  a  heartfelt  affection  in  all  that  she 
dared  share  with  them,  and  this  was  their  pi- 
ety, their  truthfulness,  their  quiet  ways,  their 
industry.  As  Beret  grew  up,  she  gradually 
learned  to  do  the  same ;  for  woman's  vocation 
as  an  educator  is  awakened  from  childhood  up. 

In  the  society  of  the  grandparents  the  spirits 
that  in  the  family  home  were  under  restraint 
flowed  freely.  Here  there  was  singing  and 
dancing  ;  games  were  played  and  nursery  tales 
told.  And  thus  the  sisters,  as  they  were  grow- 
ing up,  divided  their  time  between  deep  devo- 
tion to  their  melancholy  parents  in  the  quiet 
family  sitting-room,  and  the  merry  life  in  the 
home  of  their  grandparents ;  but  it  was  so 
gently  divided  that  it  was  their  parents  who 
besought  them  to  go  enjoy  themselves  with  the 
old  people ;  and  the  old  people  who  entreated 
them  go  back  to  their  parents  and  "  be  right 
good  girls." 

When  a  girl  of  from  twelve  to  sixteen  years 
of  age  takes  into  her  full  confidence  a  sister  of 
from  seven  to  eleven,  she  gains  as  a  reward  au 
unbounded  devotion.  But  the  younger  one  is 
iipt  to  become  a  little  too  matured  thereby. 


84  THE   BRIDAL  MARCH. 

Mildred  herself,  on  the  other  hand,  was  the 
gainer  in  becoming  forbearing,  compassionate, 
Bympathetic,  affable,  and  she  became  a  source 
of  silent  joy  to  both  parents  and  grandparents. 

There  is  nothing  further  to  narrate  until 
Mildred  entered  her  fifteenth  year  ;  then  old 
Knut  died,  suddenly  and  easily.  Scarcely  a 
moment  passed  from  the  time  he  sat  jesting  in 
his  home  until  he  lay  there  a  corpse. 

The  pleasantest  thing  the  grandmother  knew 
after  his  death  was  to  have  Mildred  on  the  lit- 
tle cricket  at  her  feet,  where  she  had  been  in 
the  habit  of  having  her  sit  from  the  time  Mil- 
dred was  small,  and  either  herself  to  tell  the 
child  about  Knut,  or  to  have  Mildred  sing,  with 
a  low  tra-la-la,  the  bridal  march.  In  its  tones 
Astrid  saw  Knut's  vigorous,  dark  head  emerge 
from  her  childhood  ;  in  listening  to  it  she  could 
^ollow  him  over  the  grassy  slopes  of  the  gard, 
where  as  a  herd-boy  he  used  to  blow  his  horn  , 
in  it  she  drove  to  church  at  his  side;  in  it  his 
merry,  clever  image  most  distinctly  rose  up  be- 
fore her.  But  in  Mildred's  soul  there  began  to 
stir  new  emotions.  While  she  sat  singing  to 
her  grandmother,  she  asked  herself :  "Will  this 
bridal  march  ever  be  played  for  me?  " 

From  the  moment  this  question  presented 
itself  to  her,  it  grew;  the  march  became  aU 


THE   BRIDAL   MARCH.  35 

aglow  with  a  calm,  peaceful  happiness.  She 
saw  a  bridal  crown  glittering  in  its  sunshine, 
which  opened  out  a  long,  bright  future  for  her 
to  ride  forward  in.  She  reached  the  age  of  six- 
teen, and  she  asked  herself :  "  Shall  I  —  ah  ! 
shall  I  ever  drive  after  it  myself,  followed  by 
father  and  mother,  past  a  crowd  of  people  who 
do  not  laugh,  alight  with  a  joyous  heart  where 
mother  wept,  walk  past  Ole  Haugen's  grave, 
and  up  to  the  altar  in  such  radiant  bliss  that 
father  and  mother  shall  have  amends  for  all 
that  they  have  suffered  ?  " 

This  was  the  first  train  of  thought  she  did 
not  confide  to  Beret.  As  time  wore  on  there 
came  to  be  others.  Beret,  who  was  now  in 
her  twelfth  year,  saw  plainly  that  she  was  left 
more  to  herself  than  she  had  been,  but  did  not 
exactly  understand  that  she  was  being  set  aside 
until  another  was  in  possession  of  her  privi- 
leges. This  was  the  eighteen -years-old,  just 
betrothed,  Inga,  their  cousin  who  lived  on  the 
neighboring  gard.  When  Beret  saw  her  and 
Mildred  go  whispering  and  laughing  across  the 
fields,  with  their  arms  entwined  about  each 
other,  after  the  wont  of  young  girls,  she  was 
ready  to  fling  herself  down  and  weep  with  jeal- 
ousy. 

Mildred  was  now  preparing  for  confirmation ; 


36  THE  BRIDAL  MARCH. 

thus  she  became  acquainted  with  those  of  her 
own  age,  and  some  of  them  came  on  Sundays 
up  to  Tingvold.  They  spent  their  time  out  in 
the  fields,  or  in  grandmother's  house.  Ting- 
vold had  indeed  hitherto  been  a  closed  land  of 
promise  to  the  young  people  of  the  parish.  Nor 
did  there  now  come  any  but  those  of  a  certain 
gentle,  quiet  nature,  for  it  could  not  be  denied 
that  there  was  something  subdued  about  Mil- 
dred that  attracted  but  few. 

In  those  days  there  was  a  great  deal  of  sing- 
ing going  on  among  the  young  people.  Such 
things  are  never  accidental ;  nevertheless  they 
have  their  seasons,  and  these  seasons  again  have 
their  leaders.  Among  the  latter,  oddly  enough, 
there  was  once  more  a  member  of  the  Haugen 
family.  Wherever  there  can  be  found  a  peo- 
ple, among  whom,  however  many  hundred 
years  past  it  may  have  been,  almost  every  man 
and  woman  have  sought  and  found  in  song 
an  expression  for  their  deepest  feelings  and 
thoughts,  and  have  been  themselves  able  to 
make  the  verses  which  bore  the  outpourings  of 
their  souls,  —  there  the  art  can  never  so  entirely 
die  out  but  that  it  may  still  live  at  some  par- 
ish merry-making,  and  can  easily  be  awakened 
even  where  it  has  not  been  heard  for  a  long 
time.      In   this   parish   there  had   been   made 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  87 

many  verses,  and  much  music  from  time  out  of 
mind  ;  it  was  neither  from  nothing  nor  for 
nothing  that  Ole  Haugen  was  born  here.  And 
now  it  was  his  son's  son  in  whom  the  musical 
taste  of  the  family  lived.  Ole  Haugen's  son  had 
been  so  much  younger  than  the  daughter  who 
had  married  into  the  Tingvold  family,  that  she 
as  a  married  woman  had  stood  sponsor  for  him. 
After  many  changes  of  fortune,  he  had,  when 
quite  an  old  man,  become  proprietor  of  his 
father's  freeholder's  place  up  the  mountain, 
and  singularly  enough  he  had  then  married  for 
the  first  time.  Several  children  were  born  to 
him,  and  among  them  a  son,  who  was  called 
Hans,  and  who  seemed  to  have  inherited  his 
grandfather's  talents,  not  exactly  for  fiddling, 
although  he  did  play,  but  rather  for  singing  old 
songs  and  sometimes  composing  new  ones.  His 
taste  for  music  was  largely  increased  through 
his  knowing  so  few  people,  although  he  lived 
right  in  their  midst.  Moreover,  there  were,  in- 
deed, not  many  who  had  seen  him.  The  fact 
was,  his  old  father  had  been  a  huntsman,  and 
before  his  sons  were  very  large  the  old  man 
used  to  sit  on  the  hill-side  and  teach  them  to 
load  and  take  aim.  His  delight  is  said  to  have 
been  exceedingly  great  when  the  little  feUows 
could   earn   the  powder  and  shot  they  nsed. 


88  THE  BRIDAL  MARCH. 

Beyond  this  he  never  got.  Their  mother  died 
a  short  time  after  him,  so  the  children  were 
left  to  take  care  of  themselves,  and  they  did  so. 
The  boys  went  hunting,  and  the  girls  managed 
the  place  on  the  mountain.  They  attracted 
attention  when,  once  in  a  while,  they  made 
their  appearance  in  the  valley,  but  this  was  not 
often,  for  in  the  winter  there  was  no  path,  and 
they  had  to  be  content  with  the  trips  about 
the  surroimding  neighborhood  which  must  be 
made  to  sell  and  carry  to  its  destination  their 
game  ;  and  in  the  summer  they  were  kept  in  the 
mountains  with  travelers.  Their  place  was  the 
highest  one  in  the  parish  ;  it  was  celebrated  for 
having  that  pure  mountain  air  which  is  more 
successful  in  healing  lung  weaknesses  and  shat- 
tered nerves  than  any  known  medicine,  and  so 
every  year  it  was  overrun  with  people  from 
town  or  from  abroad.  The  family  added  sev- 
eral buildings  to  their  place  ;  but  still  their 
rooms  were  filled.  From  poor,  aye,  pitiably 
poor  people,  these  brothers  and  sisters  had  thus 
worked  their  way  up  to  prosperity.  Inter- 
course with  so  many  strangers  had  given  them 
a  peculiar  stamp  ;  they  had  even  learned  some- 
thing of  the  foreign  languages.  Several  years 
before  Hans  had  bought  the  place  of  his  broth 
ers  and  sisters,  so  that  it  stood  in  his  name ;  he 
was  at  this  time  twenty-eight  years  old. 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  39 

None  of  them  had  ever  set  foot  in  the  home 
of  tlieir  Tingvold  relatives.  Endrid  and  Randi 
Tingvold  had  certainly  not  consciously  forbid- 
den this ;  but  they  could  tolerate  the  mention 
of  the  name  Haugen  as  little  as  they  could 
the  sound  of  the  bridal  march.  The  poor  fa- 
ther of  these  children  had  upon  one  occasion 
been  made  to  feel  this,  and  so  Hans  forbade  his 
brothers  and  sisters  to  go  there.  But  the  Ting- 
vold girls,  who  took  so  much  pleasure  in  sing- 
ing, had  an  incredible  desire  to  know  Hans, 
and  felt  ashamed  that  their  parents  had  neg- 
lected these  relatives.  In  the  recent  gatherings 
of  girls  at  the  gard,  there  were  more  questions 
asked  and  more  anecdotes  told  about  Hans  and 
his  brothers  and  sisters  than  about  anything 
else. 

In  the  midst  of  this  delightful  period  of  song 
and  social  intercourse,  Mildred  was  confirmed, 
at  the  approach  of  her  seventeenth  year.  A  lit- 
tle while  before  this  all  had  been  quiet  about 
her ;  a  short  time  after  it  was  the  same.  But 
in  the  spring,  or  rather  in  the  summer,  she  was 
to  go  up  to  the  saster  with  the  cattle,  as  all 
girls  do  after  they  are  confirmed.  She  was  ex- 
ceedingly glad !  Her  betrothed  friend  Inga 
was  to  be  at  the  neighboring  sseter. 

Beret  was  to  be  allowed  to  accompany  her 


40  THE   BRIDAL   M4BCH. 

sister  to  the  saeter,  aud  Mildred's  longing  af- 
fected her  also.  But  when  they  got  up  to  the 
Bjeter,  where  Beret  became  completely  absorbed 
in  all  the  unaccustomed  surroundings,  Mildred 
continued  to  be  as  restless  as  before  ;  she  went 
about  her  work  with  the  cattle  and  the  dairy  in 
an  absent-minded  manner ;  but  the  long  weary 
time  that  still  remained  hung  heavily  on  her 
hands.  For  hours  together  she  would  sit  with 
Inga,  listening  while  she  talked  of  her  lover, 
then  would  not  go  near  her  for  days.  If  Inga 
came  to  see  her,  she  was  pleased  and  affection- 
ate, and  acted  as  though  she  repented  her  faith- 
lessness, but  she  soon  grew  tired  of  her  again. 
She  seldom  had  anything  to  say  to  Beret,  and 
often  when  Beret  addressed  her  the  child  got  no 
other  answers  than  Yes  and  No.  Beret  went 
weeping  after  the  cattle  and  joined  the  herd- 
boys.  Mildred  felt  that  there  was  something 
in  all  this  that  had  been  broken  to  pieces  ;  but 
with  the  best  will  she  knew  not  how  to  mend  it. 
With  such  thoughts  as  these,  she  was  one 
day  sitting  in  the  vicinity  of  the  sseter  green. 
Some  goats  had  found  their  opportunity  to 
straggle  away  from  the  flock,  and  she  had  to 
watch  them.  It  was  in  the  forenoon  of  a  warm 
day  ;  she  sat  in  the  sliade  of  a  ridge  overgrown 
with  young  trees  and  birch ;  she  had  thrown  off 


THE  BRIDAL  MABCH.  41 

her  jacket  and  taken  out  her  knitting.  She 
was  expecting  Inga.  She  heard  a  rustling  be- 
hind her.  "There  she  comes,"  thought  she, 
and  looked  up. 

But  a  louder  noise  followed  than  it  seemed 
to  her  Inga  could  make  ;  the  bushes  crackled 
and  creaked  under  a  heavy  tread;  Mildred 
grew  pale  and  started  up,  and  saw  a  rim  of  fur 
and  a  pair  of  blinking  eyes  underneath ;  it 
must  be  a  bear's  head  !  She  felt  a  desire  to 
scream,  but  could  not  find  voice  ;  she  wanted  to 
spring  up,  but  could  not  stir.  Then  the  object 
that  had  startled  her  was  drawn  up  full  length 
before  her  ;  it  proved  to  be  a  tall,  broad-shoul- 
dered man,  with  a  fur  cap  and  a  gun  in  his  hand. 
He  paused  suddenly  among  the  young  trees 
and  looked  at  her.  His  eyes  were  keen,  but  in 
constant  motion ;  he  made  a  few  steps  for- 
ward, then  with  a  bound  stood  on  the  green- 
sward at  her  side.  Something  brushed  against 
her  knee ;  she  gave  a  low  scream.  It  was  his 
dog,  whom  she  had  not  seen  before. 

"Ugh!"  cried  she.  "I  almost  thought  it 
was  a  bear  that  was  trampling  down  the  young 
trees,  that  is  the  reason  why  I  was  so  fright- 
ened." 

She  tried  to  laugh. 

"  Ah,  you  were  not  far  from  the  truth  I "  said 


42  THE  BRIDAL  MABCH. 

he,  and  he  spoke  with  extraordinary  gentleness. 
"  Kvas  and  I  were  just  on  the  track  of  a  bear, 
but  we  have  lost  it ;  and  if  there  be  any  wraith  ^ 
accompanying  7ne,  it  is  certainly  a  bear." 

He  smiled.  She  stared  at  him.  What  sort 
of  a  person  was  this  ?  Tall,  broad-shouldered, 
with  eyes  that  were  constantly  changing,  so 
that  she  could  not  look  into  them ;  and  thus  he 
stood  close  beside  her  as  if  he  had  sprung  out 
of  the  earth,  with  his  gun  and  his  dog.  She 
felt  a  strong  impulse  to  say :  "  Go  away  from 
me !  "  but  instead  she  herself  drew  back  a  few 
paces,  and  asked :  "  Who  are  you  ?  "  for  she 
was  actually  afraid. 

"  Hans  Haugen,"  he  replied  absently  ;  for 
his  attention  had  been  called  to  the  dog,  that 
had  evidently  found  the  scent  again.  He 
turned  hastily  toward  her  to  say  farewell ;  but 
when  he  looked  at  her  he  saw  the  young  girl 
standing  before  him,  with  the  hot  blood  gush- 
ing up  in  streams  over  cheeks,  neck,  and  throat. 

"  What  is  the  matter  I  "  cried  he,  astonished. 

She  knew  not  what  to  do,  whether  she  should 
run  away,  turn  round,  or  sit  down. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  asked  he. 

At  once  she  was  again  bathed  in  blushes 

1  The  old  superstition,  that  every  man  has  his  wraith  (vardoger 
in  his  train  fan  invisible  animal,  which  is  an  pxpression  of  hi; 
tatore),  is  still  common  among  the  peasants.  — Tranblatob. 


THE  BRIDAL   MARCH.  43 

for  to  tell  him  her  name  would  be  to  explain 
all  she  had  in  thought  in  regard  to  him. 

"  Who  are  youV  he  asked  once  more, — which 
was  the  most  natural  question  in  the  world,  and 
certainly  deserved  an  answer ;  nor  could  she 
refuse  one;  she  felt  ashamed  of  herself  and 
ashamed  of  her  parents  that  they  could  have 
neglected  their  own  kinsfolk;  but  the  name 
must  be  spoken. 

"  Mildred  Tingvold,"  she  whispered,  and 
burst  into  tears. 

Aye,  to  be  sure  ;  none  of  the  Tingvold  fam- 
ily had  he  ever  before  of  his  own  free  will 
addressed.  But  what  had  now  occurred  was 
different  from  anything  he  had  imagined;  he 
fixed  a  pair  of  large  eyes  on  her.  There  flitted 
through  his  memory  the  story  about  her  moth- 
er's weeping  like  this  in  church  on  her  wedding- 
day  ;  perhaps  it  runs  in  the  family,  thought  he, 
and  felt  a  desire  to  get  away  fi'om  it. 

"You  must  excuse  me,  if  I  have  alarmed 
you,"  said  he,  and  followed  the  dog ;  it  was  al- 
ready bounding  over  the  ridge. 

When  she  ventured  to  raise  her  eyes,  he  had 
just  neared  the  crest,  and  he  turned  and  looked 
at  her.  It  was  but  for  a  moment,  for  just  then 
the  dog  barked  on  the  other  side ;  it  startled 
him,  he  raised  his  gun  and  was  off.     Mildred 


44  THE  BRIDAL  HABGH. 

remained  motionless  with  her  eyes  fixed  on  the 
spot  where  he  had  stood,  when  a  shot  alarmed 
her.  Could  it  be  the  bear  ?  Could  it  have  been 
BO  near  her  ?  And  o£E  she  scrambled  where  he 
but  now  had  climbed,  and  stood  where  he  had 
stood,  shading  her  eyes  with  her  hand  from  the 
Bun,  and  sure  enough,  half  hidden  by  some 
brushwood,  he  was  stooping  over  a  large  bear  ! 
Before  she  was  aware  of  it  she  had  sprung 
down  to  hira ;  he  beamed  a  smile  on  her,  and  he 
told  her,  speaking  in  a  low,  flexible  voice,  how 
it  had  all  come  to  pass,  that  they  had  lost  the 
Bcent,  afterwards,  though,  found  it  here  ;  he 
explained  why  the  dog  had  been  unable  to 
Bcent  the  bear  before  he  came  close  to  his 
track ;  and  amid  this  she  had  forgotten  her  tears 
and  bashfulness,  and  he  had  drawn  his  knife. 
He  wanted  to  skin  the  animal  at  once.  The 
flesh  was  not  worth  anything  at  this  time  of 
j^ear,  he  would  bury  it  without  delay ;  but  the 
bkin  he  wanted  to  take  with  him.  And  he  re- 
quested her  to  help  him,  and  before  she  knew 
what  she  was  doing,  she  was  holding  while  he 
was  flaying;  afterward  she  ran  down  to  the 
saeter  for  an  axe  and  a  spade,  and  although 
she  was  afraid  of  the  bear,  and  although  it 
smelled  vilely,  she  continued  to  help  him  until 
he  was  through.    By  this  time  it  was  past  noon 


THE  BRffiAL  MARCH.  45 

and  he  invited  himself  to  dine  with  her.  He 
washed  both  himself  and  the  hide,  which  was 
no  easy  task,  and  when  he  got  through  he  sat 
down  beside  her  in  the  sheeling  ;  for  she,  to  her 
shame,  had  not  the  dinner  yet  ready.  He 
chatted  away  about  one  thing  and  another, 
easily  and  pleasantly,  but  in  a  very  low  tone, 
such  as  people  are  apt  to  use  who  have  been 
much  alone,  Mildred  gave  the  shortest  answers 
she  could  ;  but  when  she  sat  right  opposite  him 
at  the  table,  she  could  neither  speak  nor  eat,  so 
that  they  often  sat  in  silence.  When  he  had 
finished,  he  turned  on  his  stool,  and  filled  and 
lighted  a  short  pipe.  He,  too,  had  become 
rather  more  taciturn  than  he  had  been,  and 
presently  he  rose. 

"  I  have  a  long  walk  home,"  said  he,  and  as 
he  gave  her  his  hand,  he  added  in  still  lower 
tones :  "  Do  you  sit  every  day  where  I  found 
you  to-day?" 

He  held  her  hand  a  moment  as  though  await- 
ing an  answer.  She  dared  not  look  up,  much 
less  reply.  Then  she  felt  a  hasty  pressure  of 
her  hand.  "  Thank  you  for  the  day  !  "  he  said 
softly,  and  before  she  30uld  gain  command  of 
herself,  she  saw  him  with  the  bear-skin  over 
his  shoulders,  gun  in  hand,  dog  at  his  side, 
walking  over  the  heather.     She  saw  him  out- 


46  THE  BRroAL  MARCH. 

lined  against  the  sky,  as  he  reached  the  sum- 
mit of  the  mountains ;  his  light,  brisk  step  bore 
him  swaftly  away ;  she  stepped  outside  of  the 
door  and  watched  him  until  he  had  disappeared 
from  view. 

Now  for  the  first  time  she  perceived  that  her 
heart  was  throbbing  so  violently  that  she  had 
to  press  her  hands  over  it.  A  little  while  later 
she  lay  on  the  greensward  with  her  face  on  her 
arm,  and  most  accurately  passed  in  review  the 
occurrences  of  the  day.  She  saw  him  emerge 
from  among  the  young  trees  above  where  she 
sat ;  she  saw  him,  with  his  broad  shoulders  and 
restless  eyes,  standing  right  in  front  of  her ;  she 
felt  the  advantage  he  had  over  her,  and  her  own 
alarm,  and  her  disgraceful  tears  ;  she  saw  him 
on  the  crest  of  the  ridge  against  the  sun ;  she 
heard  the  shot,  she  was  on  her  knees  in  front  of 
him  while  he  was  skinning  the  bear ;  she  heard 
over  again  every  word  he  had  uttered,  and  his 
low  voice,  which  had  so  friendly  a  sound  that 
it  thrilled  her  through  and  through  as  she 
thought  of  it ;  she  heard  it  again  from  the  stool 
in  front  of  the  hearth,  while  she  was  cooking, 
and  from  the  table  while  she  was  eating  ;  she 
felt  how  she  then  no  longer  dared  look  him  in 
the  eyes,  and  she  felt  that  she  finally  had  em- 
barrassed him   too,  for  he  had  grown    silent 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  47 

She  heard  him  speak  once  again,  as  he  took  her 
hand,  and  she  felt  his  grasp,  —  it  thrilled  her 
still  from  head  to  foot !     She  saw  him  crossing 
the  heather,  walking  on  and  on !     Would  he 
ever  come  again  ?     After  the  way  she  had  con- 
ducted herself  —  impossible  !     Ah,  how  strong, 
beautiful,  self-reliant  was  not  all  that  she  had 
seen  of  him,  and  how  stupid  and  miserable  was 
not  all  that  he  had  seen  of  her  !     Yes,  misera- 
ble, from  her  first  scream  at  the  dog  to  her 
blush  of  shame  and  her  tears  ;  from  the  clumsy- 
assistance  she  gave  him  to  the  meal  she  was  so 
long  in  getting  ready  for  him  1     And  to  think 
she  could  not  answer  No,  not  even  when  he 
looked   at  her ;   and   then,  at  last,  when   he 
asked  if  she  sat  every  day  at  the  foot  of  the 
ridge,  that  she  did  not  say  No,  for  she  did  not 
sit  there  every  day !     Did  not  her  silence  seem 
as  if  she  were  begging  him,  mutely  imploring 
him  to  come  and  see  ?     The  whole  of  her  piti- 
able  helplessness  —  might  it   not  be   miscon- 
strued in  the  same  way  ?     Ah,  how  mortified 
she  was  !     There   tingled  a  burning   sense  of 
shame  through  her  whole  body,  especially  in 
her  face,  as  she  buried  it  deeper  and  deeper ; 
and   then    she   conjured   up   the   whole   scene 
again,  his  magnificence  and  her  wretchedness, 
whereupon  her  mortification  increased. 


48  THE  BRIDAL  MARCH. 

When  the  bells  announced  the  approach  of 
the  cattle  she  was  still  lying  there,  but  now 
made  haste  to  get  ready  for  them.  Beret,  who 
came  too,  saw  at  once  that  there  was  something 
amiss ;  for  INIildred  addressed  to  her  the  most 
absurd  questions  and  answers,  and  acted  so 
stupidly  that  Beret  several  times  stood  still  and 
stared  at  her !  And  when  it  was  time  for  sup- 
per, and  Mildred  said  that  she  could  not  eat, 
and  instead  of  taking  her  seat  at  the  table,  sat 
down  outside  of  the  door,  nothing  was  lacking 
to  make  Beret  the  exact  picture  of  a  hunting 
dog  on  the  scent,  but  to  have  her  ears  point 
forward.  Beret  ate  her  supper  and  undressed 
—  she  and  her  sister  slept  in  the  same  bed  — 
and  when  Mildred  did  not  join  her  she  rose  up 
Boftly  many  times  and  looked  to  see  if  her  sister 
were  still  sitting  at  the  door,  and  if  she  were 
alone.  Yes,  she  sat  there,  and  always  alone. 
The  clock  struck  eleven,  then  twelve,  then  one, 
and  Mildred  still  sat  outside,  and  Beret  did  not 
sleep.  She  pretended  to  be  asleep,  to  be  sure, 
when  Mildred  finally  came,  and  Mildred  moved 
very,  very  quietly  ;  but  after  she  got  into  bed 
Beret  heard  her  sigh,  she  heard  her  say  her 
customary  evening  prayer,  so  mournfully,  heard 
her  whisper :  "  Oh,  help  me  in  this,  dear,  dear 
God  1 " 


THE  BBIDAL  MABCH.  49 

"What  does  she  want  God  to  help  her 
about  ?  "  thought  Beret.  She  30uld  not  sleep; 
Bhe  heard  her  sister,  too,  vainly  trying  to  ar- 
range herself  for  sleep,  now  on  one,  now  on  the 
other  side  ;  she  saw  her  at  last  give  up  entirely, 
push  away  the  cover,  and  putting  her  hands 
under  her  head  lie  there  staring  before  her, 
■with  wide  open  eyes.  More  she  neither  saw 
nor  heard,  for  now  she  fell  asleep.  When  she 
awoke  the  next  morning,  her  sister  was  no 
longer  in  bed.  Beret  sprang  up ;  the  sun  was 
abeady  high  in  the  heavens,  the  cattle  had 
lonsf  been  astii-.  She  found  her  breakfast  set 
aside,  made  haste  to  eat,  then  went  out  and 
found  Mildred  at  work;  but  she  was  looking 
very  haggard.  Beret  told  her  that  she  would 
at  once  find  the  cattle  and  go  with  them.  The 
other  made  no  reply,  but  she  gave  Beret  a  look 
that  seemed  to  be  intended  to  express  her 
thanks.  Beret  pondered  a  few  moments  and 
then  left. 

Mildred  looked  around ;  yes,  she  was  entirely 
alone.  Then  she  made  haste  to  get  her  milk 
vessels  in  order,  the  rest  might  be  attended  to 
as  beat  it  could.  She  washed  herself,  and 
brushed  her  hair,  and  then  hastened  into  the 
sheeling  to  change  her  clothes,  took  her  knit- 
king  and  went  toward  the  ridge. 
4 


50  THE  BRroAL  MABCH. 

She  had  none  of  the  new  strength  of  tue  new 
day,  for  she  had  scarcely  slept  at  all,  and  had 
eaten  almost  nothing  for  twenty-four  hours.  She 
walked  as  one  in  a  dream,  and  it  seemed  as  if 
she  could  not  grasp  a  single  clear  idea  until 
she  reached  the  spot  where  she  had  been  sitting 
on  the  previous  day. 

But  she  had  no  sooner  taken  her  seat  there 
than  she  thought :  "  If  he  should  come  and  find 
me  here,  he  must  of  course  believe  ?  "  —  In- 
voluntarily slie  started  up.  Then  she  saw  his 
dog  on  the  ridge ;  it  stood  still  a  moment  watch- 
ing her,  then  came  springing  down  toward  her, 
wagging  its  tail.  Every  drop  of  blood  in  her 
body  stood  still.  There  !  There  he  stood,  with 
his  gun,  in  the  sun,  just  as  the  day  before  ;  he 
had  come  another  way  to-day  !  He  smiled  at 
her,  hesitated  a  little,  then  climbed  over  the 
edge  of  the  ridge  and  soon  stood  in  front  of  her. 
She  had  given  a  little  scream,  and  then  had 
sunk  into  her  seat.  It  was  utterly  impossible 
for  her  to  rise  again,  her  knitting  fell  from  her 
hands,  she  turned  her  face  away.  He  did  not 
speak.  But  she  heard  him  throw  himself  down 
on  the  grass  just  in  front  of  her,  with  his  eyes 
fixed  on  hers,  and  she  saw  the  dog  on  the  other 
Bide  with  its  eyes  resting  on  him.  She  felt  that 
although  she  sat  with  her  face  averted,  he  could 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  61 

Bee  it,  could  see  her  blushes.  His  hurried 
breathing  quickened  hers ;  she  thought  she  felt 
his  breath  on  her  hand,  but  she  dared  not  stir. 
She  did  not  wish  him  to  speak,  and  yet  his  si- 
lence was  terrible.  She  could  not  help  under- 
standing why  he  sat  there,  and  greater  shame 
than  that  which  overpowered  her  had  never  be- 
fore been  felt.  But  it  was  not  right  in  him  to 
come,  and  still  worse  was  it  for  him  to  be  sit- 
ting here.  Then  one  of  her  hands  was  seized, 
and  held  tight,  then  the  other ;  she  had  to  turn 
a  little  at  this,  and  with  his  kind,  strong  eyes 
and  hand  he  drew  her  gently  to  him.  She 
glided  down  on  the  grass  at  his  side,  so  that  her 
head  fell  on  his  shoulder.  She  felt  him  strok- 
ing her  hair  with  one  hand  ;  but  she  dared  not 
look  up.  Her  whole  conduct  was  supremely  un- 
becoming, and  so  she  burst  into  a  violent  fit  of 
weeping. 

"Aye,  if  you  weep,  I  will  laugh,"  said  he; 
"  for  what  has  happened  to  us  two  is  something 
both  to  laugh  and  cry  over  !  " 

But  his  voice  quivered.  And  now  he  whis- 
pered into  her  ear  that  yesterday  when  he  left 
her,  he  kept  drawing  continually  nearer  and 
nearer  to  her.  This  had  increased  to  such  a 
degree  that  when  he  reached  his  mountain  hut 
he  could  do  nothing  but  let  the  German,  his 


52  THE  BRIDAL  MARCH. 

associate,  shift  for  himself,  while  he  pushed  on 
alone  up  the  mountains.  He  had  passed  the 
night  partly  sitting,  partly  walking  about  on 
the  heights  ;  in  the  morning  he  had  gone  home 
to  breakfast,  but  started  off  again  forthwith. 
He  was  twenty-eight  years  old,  and  no  small 
boy ;  but  this  he  knew,  that  either  the  girl 
must  be  his  or  all  would  be  lost.  He  wandered 
to  the  place  where  he  had  met  her  the  day  be- 
fore, he  did  not  expect  to  find  her,  he  only 
thought  he  would  sit  down  here  by  himself  a 
while.  When  he  saw  her,  he  was  at  first  start- 
led, but  then  he  thought  that  her  feelings  must 
be  the  same  as  his,  and  so  he  resolved  at  once 
to  put  her  to  the  test,  and  when  he  saw  that 
she  really  felt  as  he  did,  why  then  —  yes,  then 
—  and  he  raised  her  head  and  she  no  longer 
wept,  and  his  eyes  glowed  with  such  strange 
brilliancy  that  she  was  forced  to  gaze  into  them, 
and  she  blushed  and  bowed  her  head.  But  he 
went  on  talking,  in  his  low,  pleasant  voice. 

The  sun  shone  on  the  tops  of  the  trees  that 
covered  the  slope,  the  birches  quivered  in  a 
gentle  breeze,  the  chattering  of  the  birds 
blended  with  the  babbling  of  a  little  brook  that 
flowed  over  a  stony  bottom  close  by.  Neither 
took  note  of  the  time  that  passed  as  they  sat 
there  together,  it  was  the  dog  that  first  roused 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  63 

them.  It  had  made  several  excursions  around, 
stretching  itself  out  in  its  place  again  after 
each  one ;  but  now  it  sprang  barking  down  the 
hill.  Both  started  up,  stood  a  while  and  list- 
ened. But  nothing  could  be  seen.  They  looked 
again  at  each  other,  and  then  he  took  her  up 
on  his  arm.  She  had  never  been  carried  since 
she  was  a  child,  and  there  was  something  in 
the  act  that  made  her  utterly  helpless.  He 
was  her  defense,  her  future,  her  everlasting 
happiness,  she  must  heed  her  instincts.  Not  a 
word  was  spoken.  He  held  her,  she  clung  to 
him.  He  bore  her  to  the  spot  where  she  had 
first  been  sitting ;  there  he  seated  himself  and 
cautiously  put  her  down  at  his  side.  She  bowed 
her  head  lower  than  ever,  that  she  might  not 
be  seen  by  him  now  that  she  had  been  thus 
dealt  with.  He  was  just  about  to  turn  to  her 
when  a  voice  right  in  front  of  them,  called  out, 
in  tones  of  utter  astonishment :  "  Mildred  !  " 

It  was  Inga,  who  had  followed  in  the  track 
pf  the  dog.  Mildred  sprang  up  ;  she  gazed  at 
her  friend  for  an  instant,  then  ran  to  her,  put 
one  arm  about  her  neck  and  laid  her  head  on 
iier  shoulder. 

"  Who  IS  he  ?  "  whispered  Inga,  drawing  her 
firm  around  her,  and  Mildred  felt  how  she  trem- 
bled. 


54  THE   BBIDAL  MARCH. 

But  Mildred  did  not  stir.  Inga  knew  very 
well  who  lie  was,  for  she  was  acquainted  with 
him  ;  but  she  could  not  believe  her  own  eyes  I 
Then  Hans  drew  nearer. 

"  I  thought  you  knew  me,"  said  he  calmly ; 
"  I  am  Hans  Haugen." 

At  the  sound  of  his  voice,  Mildred  raised  her 
head.  He  held  out  his  hand ;  she  walked  up  to 
him  and  took  it,  and  looked  at  Inga  with  shame 
and  joy  blended  in  blushing  confusion. 

Hans  took  his  gun  and  said  farewell,  whis- 
pering to  Mildred  as  he  did  so,  — 

"  You  may  be  sure  I  will  come  soon  again 
after  this  I " 

Both  girls  accompanied  him  down  to  the 
dairy,  and  saw  him  walk  away  in  the  direction 
he  had  taken  the  day  before.  They  watched 
him  until  he  had  disappeared  from  their  sight. 
Mildred  stood,  leaning  on  Inga,  and  the  latter 
felt  that  her  friend  could  neither  stir  nor  speak. 
But  when  Hans  was  quite  out  of  sight,  Mil- 
dred's head  drooped  on  Inga's  shoulder,  and  she 
&aid,  — 

"  Ask  me  no  questions,  for  I  cannot  tell  you 
anything." 

For  a  time  she  continued  to  nestle  up  against 
Inga,  and  then  they  went  to  the  sheeling 
There  Mildred  remembered  that  she  had  lef^ 


THE  BRIDAL  MABCH.  56 

everything  in  disorder  behind  her,  and  Inga 
now  helped  her.  During  their  work  they  did 
not  say  much  to  each  other ;  at  all  events,  not 
about  anything  else  than  the  work. 

Mildred  brought  forward  the  noon-day  repast, 
but  could  eat  very  little  herself,  although  she 
felt  the  need  of  both  food  and  sleep.  Inga  left 
her  as  soon  as  she  could ;  she  saw  that  Mildred 
preferred  to  be  alone. 

When  Inga  was  gone,  Mildred  laid  herself 
down  on  the  bed  and  tried  to  sleep.  Just  once 
more,  though,  she  wanted  to  single  out  from 
the  day's  occurrences  something  that  he  had 
said  and  that  seemed  to  her  the  most  delight- 
ful of  all.  In  so  doing  she  had  occasion  to  ask 
herself  what  reply  she  had  made  to  this.  And 
then  it  became  clear  to  her  that  she  had  not 
said  one  word — indeed,  through  their  entire  in- 
terview not  a  single  word !  She  rose  up  in  bed. 
He  could  not  have  gone  many  paces  alone,  be- 
fore this  must  have  occurred  to  him  also  ;  and 
what  must  he  then  have  thought?  That  she 
was  like  one  walking  about  in  her  sleep,  or  like 
a  person  utterly  devoid  of  will.  How  could  he 
long  continue  to  be  attracted  to  her.  Indeed, 
it  was  not  until  he  was  away  from  her,  in  the 
first  place,  that  he  discovered  his  love  for  her ; 
■he  trembled  to  think  what  discoveries  he  might 


56  THE  BRIDAL   MARCH. 

make  this  day.  Again,  as  on  the  preceding 
day,  she  sat  down  outside  of  the  door.  Through 
her  whole  life  Mildred  had  been  accustomed  to 
take  care  of  herself;  she  had  led  such  a  shel- 
tered life.  Therefore,  in  her  entire  behavior 
during  the  past  twenty-four  hours,  she  thought 
she  had  shown  neither  discretion  nor  consider- 
ation, scarcely  even  modesty.  She  knew  noth- 
ing of  such  things,  either  from  books  or  from 
real  life ;  she  saw  vrith  the  vision  of  peasants, 
and  no  one  has  stricter  rules  of  propriety.  It 
is  seemly,  according  to  them,  to  suppress  one's 
emotions ;  it  is  modest  to  be  tardy  in  the  ex- 
pression of  one's  feelings.  She,  who  beyond  all 
others,  had  adhered  to  these  rules  throughout 
her  whole  life,  and  who,  consequently,  had  en- 
joyed the  esteem  of  all  about  her,  had  in  one 
single  day  yielded  herself  entirely  to  a  man  she 
had  never  before  seen  !  In  the  course  of  time 
he  would  be  the  very  one  who  would  most  de- 
spise her  !  When  it  was  a  thing  that  could  not 
be  told,  not  even  to  Inga,  what  must  it  not  be ! 
When  Beret  appeared  at  the  first  sound  of 
the  cattle  bells  in  the  distance,  she  found  her 
sister  lying  outside  of  the  sheeling,  looking  like 
one  in  whom  there  was  no  life.  She  stood  by 
her  until  Mildred  was  compelled  to  raise  her 
head  and  look  at  her.     Mildred's  eyes  were  red 


THE  BRIDAL   MARCH.  67 

inth  weeping,  her  whole  expression  that  of  one 
who  is  suffering.  But  lier  countenance  changed 
when  she  caught  sight  of  Beret,  for  Beret's 
face  showed  traces  of  agitation. 

"  What  is  the  matter  with  you  ?  "  she  ex- 
claimed. 

"  Nothing !  "  replied  Beret,  and  remained 
standing,  with  her  eyes  averted  from  Mildred, 
so  that  the  latter  had  to  drop  hers,  turn  and 
rise  to  prepare  for  the  evening  meal. 

They  did  not  meet  again  until  supper-time, 
when  they  sat  facing  each  other.  As  Mildred 
was  unable  to  eat  more  than  a  few  spoonfuls 
herself,  her  eyes  now  and  then  wandered  ab- 
sently from  one  to  the  other  at  the  table,  but 
they  rested  chiefly  on  Beret,  who  seemed  as  if 
she  would  never  get  through.  She  was  not  eat- 
ing, she  was  devouring  her  food  like  a  hungry 
dog. 

"  Have  you  taken  no  food  before,  to-day  ?  " 
asked  Mildred. 

"  No,"  answered  Beret,  and  continued  eating. 

Presently  Mildred  asked,  — 

"  Have  you  not  been  with  the  herd-boys?  " 

"  No,"  replied  both  she  and  the  herd-boys. 

In  their  presence  Mildred  would  not  ask  any 
more  questions,  and  later  her  own  morbid  mind 
made  her  quite  unfit  to  take  charge  of  her  sis- 


68  THE  BRIDAL  MARCH. 

ter,  and,  as  it  seemed  to  lier  too,  quite  un- 
worthy. This  thought  was  but  an  addition  to 
the  growing  reproaches,  which  were  throbbing 
one  by  one  through  her  soul,  as  she  sat  all  the 
evening  and  into  the  night  in  her  place  outside 
of  the  sheeling  door. 

In  the  crimson  flush  of  the  evening,  in  the 
cold  gray  night,  no  peace,  not  the  slightest  in- 
clination for  sleep.  The  poor  child  had  never 
before  been  in  trouble.  Ah,  how  she  prayed  I 
She  would  cease  and  begin  again ;  she  used 
prayers  which  she  knew,  and  she  poured  out 
her  soul  in  words  of  her  own,  and  finally,  totally 
exhausted,  she  sought  her  bed.  There  she 
again  collected  her  thoughts ;  but  her  strength 
was  all  gone ;  she  could  only  take  up  the  burden 
of  her  prayer  :  "  Help  me !  dear,  dear  God,  oh, 
help  me  !  "  —  and  she  kept  repeating  this,  now 
in  low  tones,  now  aloud;  for  she  was  having  a 
struggle  within  herself  as  to  whether  she  should 
give  him  up  or  not.  Suddenly  she  was  so 
frightened  tliat  she  gave  a  shriek  ;  for  quick  as 
lightning  Beret  had  darted  up  and  was  kneel- 
ing by  her. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  she  whispered,  her  large  eyes 
flashing  fire,  and  her  heated  face  and  short 
breath  betokening  great  agitation  of  mind. 

Mildred,  overpowered  by  her  self-torture,  ex 


THE  BBIDAL  MARCH.  6ft 

hausted  in  soul  and  body,  could  make  no  reply  ; 
she  had  become  so  alarmed  that  she  felt  like 
sobbing  aloud. 

"  Who  is  he  ?  "  repeated  the  other,  in  threat- 
ening tones,  bringing  her  face  nearer  to  Mil- 
dred's; "it  is  no  use  for  you  to  hide  it  any 
longer ;  I  was  watching  you  two  the  whole 
time  to-day  1 " 

Mildred  held  up  her  arms,  by  way  of  defense, 
but  Beret  seized  them  and  drew  them  down. 

"  Who  is  he,  I  say  ?  "  —  this  time  she  looked 
Mildred  straight  in  the  eyes. 

"  Beret,  Beret  1  "  wailed  the  other  ;  '  have  I 
ever  shown  you  anything  but  kindness  since 
you  were  a  little  child  ?  Why  are  you  so  un- 
kind to  me,  now  that  I  am  in  such  distress  ?  " 

Beret  let  go  of  her  arm,  for  Mildred  was 
shedding  tears.  But  Beret's  breath  was  hot, 
and  her  heart  throbbed  as  if  it  would  burst. 

*'  Is  it  Hans  Haugen?"  whispered  she. 

Breathless  silence  ensued. 

"  Yes,"  finally  whispered  Mildred,  and  burst 
into  tears. 

Then  Beret  drew  down  her  sister's  arm  once 
more ;  —  she  wanted  to  look  into  her  eyes. 

"  Why  did  you  not  tell  me  this,  Mildred?" 
Bhe  asked,  with  the  same  burning  zeal. 

"  Beret,  indeed  I  did  not  know  it  myself," 


60  THE  BRIDAL  MARCH. 

was  the  reply.  "  I  never  saw  him  in  my  life 
until  yesterday.  And  no  sooner  had  I  seen  liim 
than  I  gave  myself  to  him;  that  is  just  what 
torments  me  so  that  I  feel  as  if  I  must  die  !  " 

"  Did  you  never  see  him  before  yesterday  ?  " 
screamed  Beret,  in  the  greatest  astonishment. 

"  Never  in  my  life,"  replied  Mildred,  vehe- 
mently. "  Can  you  imagine  so  great  a  shame, 
Beret?" 

But  at  this  Beret  flung  herself  over  her,  threw 
her  arms  about  her  neck,  and  kissed  her  over 
and  over  again. 

"  Dear,  sweet  Mildred,  how  delightful  it 
is  !  "  she  whispered,  all  sparkling  with  delight. 
"  Ah,  how  delightful  it  is  !  "  she  repeated,  and 
kissed  her.  "  And  how  I  will  keep  the  secret, 
Mildred  !  " —  and  she  gave  her  sister  a  squeeze, 
then  started  up  again.  "  And  to  think  you  be- 
lieved I  could  not  keep  it  to  myself  !  "  and  she 
fell  into  sudden  distress.  "  /  not  kec^p  a  secret 
when  it  concerned  you,  Mildred  !  "  she  began  to 
cry.  "  Why  have  you  forgotten  me  of  late  ? 
Why  have  you  put  Inga  in  my  place  ?  Oh, 
what  sorrow  you  have  caused  me  !  When  you 
knew  how  fond  I  was  of  you,  Mildred  ! "  and 
Bhe  hid  her  face  in  her  sister's  bosom. 

But  Mildred  now  drew  her  arm  round  her 
and  kissed  her,  and  then  assured  her  that  8h« 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  61 

had  not  thought  of  this  until  now,  and  that  she 
would  never  push  her  aside  again,  and  that 
henceforth  she  would  place  implicit  confidence 
in  her,  she  was  so  good  and  true ;  —  and  she 
patted  lier,  and  Beret  patted  her  in  return. 
Beret  rose  up  again  on  her  knee ;  she  wanted 
to  see  her  sister's  eyes  in  the  glow  of  the  sum- 
mer night,  which  was  already  beginning  to  be 
tinged  with  the  rosy  flush  of  morning. 

"  Mildred,  how  handsome  he  is  !  "  was  Beret's 
first  exultant  shout.  "How  did  he  come? 
How  did  you  first  see  him  ?  What  did  he  say  ? 
How  did  it  happen  ?  " 

And  what  Mildred  a  few  hours  before  be- 
lieved she  could  never  tell  any  one,  she  now 
found  herself  freely  recounting  to  her  sister  ; 
she  was  interrupted  now  and  then  by  having 
Beret  fling  herself  over  her  and  give  her  a  hug  ; 
but  this  only  increased  Mildred's  delight  in  tell- 
ing her  story.  They  laughed  and  they  wept ; 
sleep  had  entirely  escaped  their  minds.  The 
sun  found  them  thus:  the  one  lying  down,  or 
resting  on  her  elbow,  transported  by  her  own 
story ;  the  other  on  her  knees  in  front  of  her, 
with  half  parted  lips,  glittering  eyes,  and  now 
and  then  flinging  herself  over  her  sister,  in  an 
exuberance  of  delight. 

They  rose  together,  and  did  their  work  to 


62  THE  BRroAL   MARCH. 

gether ;  and  when  they  were  through  with  it, 
and  just  for  the  sake  of  appearances  had  eaten 
their  breakfast,  they  both  dressed  for  the  inter- 
view. He  must  surely  come  soon  !  The  girls 
sat  down  in  their  holiday  attire  at  the  foot  of 
the  ridge,  and  Beret  showed  Mildred  where  she 
had  been  lying  the  day  before ;  the  dog  had 
often  come  there  to  her.  One  sister's  story 
followed  swiftly  upon  that  of  the  other;  the 
weather  too  was  fine  to-day,  only  a  few  clouds 
were  visible.  They  had  soon  chatted  away  the 
time  beyond  the  hour  when  Hans  was  expected ; 
but  they  continued  to  talk,  and  forgot  it  only 
to  remember  it  again,  and  Beret  sprang  to  her 
feet  several  times,  and  ran  up  to  tlie  crest  to 
see  if  he  were  coming ;  but  she  neither  saw  nor 
heard  anything  of  him.  Both  girls  grew  im- 
patient, and  Mildred  suddenly  became  so  to 
such  a  degree  that  Beret  was  alarmed.  She 
represented  to  her  sister  that  he  was  really  not 
his  own  master  ;  for  two  days  the  German  had 
been  left  to  fish  and  shoot  and  prepare  his 
meals  alone ;  that  would  scarcely  answer  three 
days  in  succession;  and  Mildred  found  that 
there  was  some  justice  in  this. 

"  What  do  you  think  father  and  mother  wilT 
Bay  to  this  ?  "  asked  Beret,  merely  to  divert 
her  sister's  thoughts. 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  68 

But  the  moment  she  had  uttered  the  words, 
she  regretted  having  done  so.  Mildred  grew 
pale  and  stared  at  Bei-et,  who  stared  at  her 
in  return.  Had  Mildred  never  thought  of  this 
before  ?  Yes,  to  be  sure  she  had  ;  but  as  one 
thinks  of  something  far  away.  Fear  at  what 
Hans  Haugen  might  think  of  her,  shame  at  her 
own  weakness  and  stupidity,  had  so  completely 
absorbed  her  that  she  had  thrust  all  else  aside. 
Now  the  case  was  reversed ;  her  parents  sud- 
denly and  wholly  occupied  her  thoughts  I 

Beret  again  strove  to  console  her.  When 
they  saw  him  they  would  justify  Mildred  in 
what  she  had  done  ;  nor  would  they  make  her 
unhappy,  who  had  been  their  joy  ;  grandmother 
would  help  her  too  ;  no  one  could  have  any 
fault  to  find  with  Hans  Haugen,  and  he  would 
never  give  up ! 

All  this  rushed  past  Mildred,  but  she  was 
thinking  of  something  else,  and  in  order  to  gain 
time  to  consider  properly,  she  begged  Beret  to 
get  the  dinner  ready.  Beret  walked  slowly 
away,  glancing  over  her  shoulder  several  times. 

Now  what  Mildred  was  pondering  upon  was : 
"  Shall  I  tell  father  and  mother  about  this  at 
once  ?  "  Excited  as  she  was  from  the  tremen- 
dous strain  of  the  day,  the  question  grew  to  the 
«ize  of  a  mountain.     It  seemed  to  her  that  she 


64  THE  BRIDAL   MARCH. 

would  be  committing  a  sin  if  she  I'eceived  him 
now.  She  ought  not  to  have  engaged  herself 
without  her  parents'  consent ;  but  she  had  been 
powerless  to  do  otherwise.  Now  that  it  was 
done  her  only  course  was  to  seek  her  parents 
without  delay !  She  rose  to  her  feet,  a  light 
dawned  in  her  soul.  What  was  right  must  be 
done.  When  Hans  appeared  here  again,  she 
must  have  spoken  to  her  parents.  "  Is  not  that 
so  ?  "  she  queried,  yet  not  exactly  as  a  ques- 
tion ;  and  "  Yes  ! "  she  seemed  to  hear  some 
one  reply,  although  no  one  had  spoken.  She 
hastened  to  the  dairy  to  tell  Beret  of  this. 
But  Beret  was  neither  in  the  sheeling,  nor  in 
the  dairy. 

"  Beret !  "  she  called.  "  Beret !  Beret !  " 
The  echo  repeated  the  name  from  every  side ; 
but  it  gave  her  no  Beret.  Round  about  she 
went  searching  for  her  sister  without  finding 
her.  She  had  been  agitated  before,  she  was 
terrified  now.  Beret's  wide-opened  eyes,  and 
the  question  :  "  What  do  you  think  father  and 
mother  will  say  to  this?  "  kept  growing  larger 
and  larger. 

Could  Beret  have  possibly  gone  to  them  her- 
self ?  It  would  be  just  like  her  !  Vehement  as 
the  child  was,  she  would  want  to  have  the  ques* 
tion  decided,  and  Mildred  consoled  forthwith. 
Most  assuredly  she  had  gone  I 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  65 

But  if  Beret  should  be  the  first  to  carry  this 
to  her  parents,  they  would  misunderstand  it ; 
and  Mildred  struck  briskly  into  the  path  lead- 
ing to  the  parish  I  Once  on  the  way  she  walked 
faster  and  faster,  borne  onward  by  ever-increas- 
ing excitement.  She  was  not  aware  of  this, 
only  there  was  a  buzzing  in  her  head,  a  pres- 
sure about  the  heart,  —  she  panted  for  breath. 
She  was  forced  to  sit  down  and  rest  awhile. 
But  she  could  get  no  rest  sitting,  she  must  lie 
on  the  ground.  She  flung  herself  down  on  her 
arm,  and  thus  she  fell  asleep. 

For  two  days  and  nights  she  had  scarcely 
slept  or  eaten,  and  what  power  this  would 
naturally  have  over  the  soul  and  body  of  a 
child  who  had  hitherto  calmly  and  regularly 
taken  her  meals  and  slept  in  her  father's  house, 
she  did  not  understand. 

Now  Beret  had  not  gone  to  their  parents  but 
had  started  off  after  Hans  Haugen !  She  had 
a  long  distance  to  go,  and  part  of  the  way  lay 
through  an  unknown  region,  along  the  edge  of 
a  wood,  and  later  she  had  to  go  farther  up  the 
mountains,  across  plateaus  that  were  not  quite 
Becure  from  wild  beasts,  which  had  been  show- 
ing themselves  about  here  of  late.  But  she 
went  bravely  onward,  for  Hans  must  come,  or 


66  THE  BRIDAL  MARCH. 

it  would  be  hard  for  Mildred :  she  scarcely  knew 
her  sister  as  she  appeared  now ! 

She  was  light-hearted  and  gay,  her  sister's 
adventure  went  tripping  along  with  her.  Hans 
Haugen  was  the  most  distinguished  person  she 
knew  in  this  world,  and  Mildred  deserved  the 
most  distinguished  I  It  was  no  wonder  that 
Mildred  gave  herself  at  once  to  him,  no  more 
than  it  was  strange  that  he  fell  in  love  with 
Mildred  at  first  sight.  If  their  parents  could 
not  understand  this  they  would  have  to  do  as 
the}'^  pleased,  and  these  two  must  brave  resist- 
ance as  her  great  grandfather  and  her  gran«L 
father  had  done  ;  —  and  she  began  to  sing  the 
bridal  march  of  her  family.  It  rang  jubilantly 
out  over  the  desert  wastes  and  died  away  in  the 
hazy  atmosphere. 

On  the  top  of  the  mountain  she  paused  and 
Bhijuted  hurrah  !  But  a  strip  of  the  extreme 
and  uppermost  part  of  the  parish  was  visible 
from  where  she  stood ;  bordering  on  it  she  saw 
the  last  edge  of  the  wood,  beyond  it  the  heath, 
and  here  where  she  was  standing  nothing  but 
stones  and  rocky  plains  in  rigid  undulations. 
She  sped  swiftly  onward  in  the  buoyant  air. 
She  knew  that  the  mountain  hut  must  be  situ- 
ated in  a  direct  line  with  yonder  snow-capped 
liiountain,  whose  peak  towered  above  aU  the 


THE  BBIDAL  MARCH.  67 

others,  and  pretty  soon  she  was  convinced  that 
she  had  not  very  far  to  go.  In  order  to  make 
sure  of  her  course  she  climbed  upon  a  large 
loose  stone,  and  then  saw  a  mountain  lake  just 
below  her.  Whether  it  was  a  hut  or  a  rock 
that  she  now  saw  beside  the  lake,  she  could 
not  decide,  for  sometimes  it  seemed  to  resem- 
ble a  hut,  sometimes  a  rock.  But  close  by  a 
mountain  lake  his  hut  was  said  to  stand.  Yes, 
indeed,  it  was  unquestionably  by  this  very  one, 
for  there  was  a  boat  rounding  yonder  point  I 
Two  men  sat  in  it ;  this  must  be  he  and  the 
German.  Down  she  sprang  and  started  for- 
ward. But  what  she  had  thought  so  near, 
proved  to  be  far  away,  and  she  ran  and  ran. 
The  anticipation  of  meeting  Hans  Haugen  ex- 
cited her. 

Hans  Haugen  sat  secure  in  his  boat  with  the 
German,  unconscious  of  all  the  commotion  he 
had  caused.  Hans  had  never  been  frightened 
himself.  He  was  only  happy,  and  he  sat  there 
making  some  verses  for  the  bridal  march. 

He  was  no  great  poet;  but  he  had  put  to- 
gether something  about  their  ride  to  church, 
and  their  meeting  in  the  woods  served  for  the 
refrain  of  each  stanza.  He  was  whistling  and 
fishing  and  enjoying  himself  extremely ;  the  Ger 
nan  was  busy  fishing  and  left  him  in  peace. 


68  THE  BRIDAL  MARCH. 

They  now  heard  shouting  on  the  shore  ;  both 
Hans  and  the  bearded  German  raised  their 
eyes  and  saw  a  young  girl  beckoning  to  them. 
They  conferred  together  a  moment,  and  then 
rowed  to  shore.  Here  Hans  sprang  out  and 
moored  the  boat,  and  both  men  loaded  them- 
selves with  the  guns,  coats,  lish,  and  fishing 
tackle ;  but  while  the  German  went  straight  to 
the  hut,  Hans,  with  his  burden,  walked  up  to 
Beret,  who  was  standing  on  a  stone  near  by. 

"  Who  are  you  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  Beret,  Mildred's  sister,"  said  she. 

He  flushed  crimson,  and  she  did  the  same. 
But  presently  he  grew  pale. 

"  Is  anything  the  matter  ?  "  cried  he. 

"  No,  nothing,  except  that  you  must  come. 
She  cannot  bear  to  be  alone  now." 

He  stood  still  a  moment  gravely  contemplat- 
ing her.  Then  he  turned  and  went  toward  tlie 
hut.  The  German  had  paused  outside  to  hang 
up  the  fishiiig  tackle  ;  Hans  now  did  the  same, 
while  the  two  exchanged  some  words.  Inside 
of  the  hut,  ever  since  Beret  shouted,  two  dogs 
had  been  barking  with  all  their  might  and 
main.  The  men  went  in  together ;  but  as  they 
opened  the  door  the  dogs  rushed  out,  Hans's 
and  the  German's,  but  were  at  once  sternly  re- 
called.    All  became  still,  and   it  was   a  long 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  69 

time  before  Hans  came  out  again.  But  when 
he  did  appear,  he  wore  other  clothes  than  be- 
fore, and  he  had  his  gun  and  his  dog  with  him. 
The  German  accompanied  him  out.  And  they 
took  each  other  by  the  hand,  as  though  they 
were  saying  farewell  for  a  long  time.  Hans  at 
once  approached  Beret. 

"  Can  you  walk  fast  ?  "  asked  he. 

"  Yes,  to  be  sure  I  can." 

And  lie  walked  and  she  ran  ;  the  dog  bounded 
along  in  front  of  them. 

As  it  had  not  occurred  to  him  that  Mildred 
could  feel  less  secure  and  happy  over  their  be- 
trothal than  he  himself  had  felt,  this  summons 
came  to  him  as  a  message  from  a  new  world  of 
thought.  Of  course,  she  was  anxious  about  her 
parents  I  She  was  alarmed,  too,  at  the  haste 
in  which  everything  had  been  brought  to  pass 

—  to  be  sure  she  was  !  He  understood  this 
80  well  now  that  he  was  thoroughly  astonished 
at  himself  for  not  having  understood  it  before 

—  and  he  walked  on  !  Why,  even  on  him  the 
meeting  with  Mildred  had  made  an  overwhelm 
ing  impression ;  what  must  not  she,  a  child, 
quiet  and  retired  as  the  home  of  her  parents, 
experience  at  being  cast  out  in  a  storm?  And 
he  strode  on  ! 

During  this  rapid  march  Beret  had  skippo.! 


70  THE  BRIDAL  MARCH. 

along  at  his  side,  keeping  her  face,  as  far  as 
possible,  turned  toward  his.  She  had  now  and 
then  canglit  a  glimpse  of  his  large  eyes  and 
flushed  cheeks  ;  but  he  was  so  completely  en- 
circled by  his  thoughts,  that  he  had  not  seen 
her  distinctly,  and  at  last  he  lost  sight  of  her 
altogether.  He  turned ;  she  was  a  considera- 
ble distance  behind  him  ;  but  she  was  strain- 
ing every  nerve  to  keep  up.  She  had  been  too 
proud  to  say  that  she  could  not  endure  such  a 
march.  But  when  he  paused  and  waited  until 
she  came  up,  all  out  of  breath,  the  tears  started 
to  her  eyes. 

"  Ah !  Am  I  walking  too  fast  ?  "  and  he 
held  out  his  hand  as  he  spoke. 

She  was  panting  so  that  she  could  not  an- 
swer. 

"  Let  us  sit  down  a  little  while,"  said  he, 
and  drew  her  toward  him.  "  Come !  "  and  he 
pulled  her  down  into  a  seat  at  his  side. 

She  grew  rosier,  if  possible,  than  before  ;  and 
she  did  not  look  at  him.  She  was  gasping  as 
if  she  were  losing  her  breath. 

"I  am  so  thirsty,"  was  the  first  tiling  she 
could  say. 

They  rose  again,  and  he  looked  round ;  but 
Ihere  was  no  water  near  at  hand. 

"  We  must  wait  till  we  get  on  farther ;  theu 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  71 

we  will  find  a  brook,"  said  he ;  "  it  would  not 
be  good  for  you  to  drink  just  now,  either." 

He  sat  down  again  and  she  took  her  seat  on 
the  stone  in  front  of  him. 

"  I  ran  all  the  way  coming  here,"  said  she, 
by  way  of  apology.  "  And  I  did  not  eat  any 
dinner,"  she  added  presently ;  nor  did  I  sleep 
any  last  night,"  she  further  volunteered. 

Instead  of  expressing  sympathy  for  her,  he 
asked,  hurriedly,  — 

"  Then,  I  suppose,  Mildred,  too,  ate  no  dinner, 
and,  perhaps,  did  not  sleep  last  night  ?  " 

"  Why,  Mildred  did  not  sleep  any  the  night 
before  either,  and  she  has  not  eaten,  so  far  as  I 
have  noticed,  no,  not  for  "  —  she  considered 
a  while —  "  for  ever  so  long." 

He  started  up. 

"  Can  you  go  on  now  ?  " 

"  Yes,  I  think  I  can." 

And  he  took  her  by  the  hand,  and  the  hur- 
ried tramp  began  anew.  After  a  little  while 
he  saw  that  she  could  not  continue  at  this  rate, 
80  he  took  off  his  jacket,  gave  it  to  her,  and 
picking  her  up  carried  her.  This  she  would 
not  permit  on  any  account.  But  he  bore  her 
lightly  onward,  and  Beret  held  fast  to  his 
waistcoat-band ;  him  she  dared  not  touch.  Pres- 
ently she  told  him  that  now  she  was  rested  and 


72  THE  BRIDAL  MARCH. 

could  mil  very  well.  He  put  her  down,  took 
his  jacket  himself  and  hung  it  across  his  gun, 
and  pushed  on.  When  the  brook  was  reached, 
they  paused  and  rested  a  little  before  she  drank. 
When  she  rose,  he  looked  at  her  and  smiled. 

"  You  are  a  nice  little  girl,"  said  he. 

Evening  was  drawing  near  when  they  reached 
their  journey's  end.  Mildred  was  sought  in 
vain  both  in  the  dairy  and  on  the  ridge ;  their 
shouts  died  away  in  the  distance  and  both  were 
becoming  alarmed,  when  Hans  noticed  that  the 
dog  was  sniflfing  at  something.  They  ran  for- 
ward ;  it  was  Mildred's  kerchief.  Hans  im- 
mediately gave  a  sign  to  the  dog  to  seek  the 
owner  of  the  kerchief,  and  off  the  animal 
went!  They  followed  over  the  mountain  to- 
ward the  other  side,  that  is,  in  the  direction 
toward  the  Tingvold  region.  Could  she  have 
gone  home  ? 

Beret  told  about  her  thoughtless  question 
and  its  results,  and  Hans  replied  that  he  could 
well  imagine  that  it  would  be  so.  Beret  be- 
gan to  cry.  Should  they  go  after  her  or  not  ? 
Beret  chimed  in  :  "  Yes,  yes ! "  she  was  quite 
distracted.  Before  starting  they  must  go  to 
the  neighboring  saeter  to  ask  some  one  to  look 
•ifter  the  cattle.  While  they  were  still  discuss- 
ir.<^  this,  all  the  time  following  the  dog,  thej 


THE   BRIDAL   MARCH.  73 

saw  it  pause  and  look  back,  wagging  its  tail. 
They  ran  forward  and  there  they  found  Mil- 
dred ! 

She  was  lying  on  her  arm,  with  her  face  half 
buried  in  the  heather.  They  approached  with 
soft  steps,  the  dog  licked  her  hand  and  cheek  ; 
she  wiped  the  spots  it  had  touched  and  changed 
her  position,  but  olept  on. 

"  Let  her  sleep  !  "  whispered  Hans  ;  "  and 
you  go  and  meet  the  cattle ;  I  hear  the  bells." 

After  Beret  had  started,  he  hastened  after 
her. 

"  Bring  some  food  with  you  when  you  come 
back,"  whispered  he. 

Now  he  seated  himself  at  a  short  distance 
from  Mildred,  drew  the  dog  to  him,  forced  it  to 
lie  down,  and  sat  there  holding  it,  to  prevent  it 
from  barking  if  a  bird  or  some  stray  animal 
should  stu-  near  them. 

The  evening  was  cloudy  ;  there  was  a  gray 
light  over  the  ridges  and  plateaus ;  all  around 
was  hushed  ;  not  so  much  as  a  little  Mrd  broke 
the  stillness  of  the  air.  He  sat  or  rather  re- 
clined with  his  hand  on  the  dog.  What  should 
be  agreed  upon  when  Mildred  awoke,  he  had 
quickly  settled  in  his  own  mind.  The  future 
was  without  ;i  clourl :  he  lay  there  gazing  up  at 
the  sky,  undisturbed  1  >y  a  shadow  of  anxiety. 


74  THE   BRIDAL  MARCH. 

He  knew  that  their  meeting  wa8  a  miracle 
God  himself   had   told  them  they  mu8t  walk 
through  life  together ! 

He  busied  himself  once  more  with  the  bridal 
march ;  a  suppressed  joy  reigned  within  his 
Boul,  he  imprisoned  his  thoughts  therein. 

It  must  have  been  after  eight  o'clock  when 
Beret  came  back,  bringing  food  with  her.  Mil- 
dred was  not  yet  awake.  Beret  put  down  her 
load,  stood  watching  them  a  while,  then  seated 
herself,  but  at  some  distance  from  the  others. 
They  waited  fully  an  hour  more,  during  which 
Beret  often  jumped  up  to  keep  herself  from 
falling  asleep.  Toward  ten  o'clock  Mildred 
awoke.  She  turned  several  times,  opened  her 
eyes  at  last,  saw  where  she  was  lying,  sat  up, 
looked  at  the  others.  She  was  half  intoxicated 
with  sleep,  which  kept  her  from  clearly  com- 
prehending where  she  was  and  what  she  saw, 
till  Hans  rose,  and  smiling,  approached  her. 
Then  she  held  out  both  hands  towards  him. 

He  sat  down  at  her  side. 

"  Now  you  have  slept,  Mildred." 

"  Yes,  now  I  have  slept." 

"  Now  you  are  hungry." 

"  Yes,  I  am  hungry."  Here  Beret  drew  near 
with  the  food. 

Mildred  looked  at  it  and  at  them.  "  Hav« 
[  slept  long  ?  "  said  she. 


THE  BRIDAL   MARCH.  7b 

"  Yes,  you  have.  It  must  be  nine  o'clock. 
Look  at  the  sun  !  " 

Now  for  the  first  time  slie  seemed  to  recall 
all  that  had  occurred. 

"  Have  you  been  here  long  ?  " 

"  Oh  —  no  ;  but  eat  now  !  " 

She  began. 

"  You  were  on  your  way  down  to  the  val- 
ley ?  "  inquired  Hans,  drawing  his  face  nearer 
to  hers. 

She  blushed. 

"  Yes,"  whispered  she. 

"  To-morrow,  when  you  have  had  your  sleep 
quite  out,  we  two  will  go  down  there  together." 

Her  eyes  were  fastened  on  his ;  first  wide- 
open  and  wondering,  then  smiling,  filled  with 
gratitude ;  but  she  said  nothing.  After  this 
she  seemed  to  revive.  She  asked  Beret  where 
she  had  been,  and  Beret  told  her  she  had  gone 
in  search  of  Hans,  —  and  he  told  the  rest.  Mil- 
dred ate  and  listened,  and  it  was  evident  that 
the  old  enchantment  was  gradually  stealing 
over  her  again.  She  laughed  merrily  at  hear- 
ing that  the  dog  had  found  her  and  licked  her 
face  without  waking  her.  The  dog  was  sitting 
by,  greedily  watching  every  morsel  she  ate  j 
now  she  began  to  share  her  meal  with  it. 

As  soon  as  she  had  finished,  they  went  slowly 


76  THE   BRIDAL   MARCH. 

toward  the  sgeter,  and  not  long  after  Beret  was 
in  bed.  The  two  others  sat  down  outside  of 
the  door.  There  began  to  fall  a  drizzliug  rain, 
but  as  the  roof  projected  they  did  not  heed  it. 
Tlie  fog  closed  about  the  dairy  ;  they  sat  as 
within  a  magic  circle.  The  atmosphere  was, 
consequently,  more  dark  than  light.  Subdued 
words  fell  from  their  lips,  each  one  bringing 
confidence.  For  the  first  time  they  could  talk 
together.  He  tenderly  begged  her  pardon  for 
not  having  remembered  that  she  might  be  dif- 
ferently constituted  than  he,  and  that  she  had 
parents  to  consult.  She  acknowledged  her 
fright,  and  said  that  from  the  moment  she  had 
met  him  she  had  ceased  to  be  herself  ;  indeed, 
she  had  even  forgotten  her  parents.  She  no 
doubt  had  more  to  say,  yet  she  would  not  con- 
tinue. But  in  their  trembling  joy,  everything 
spoke,  even  to  the  softest  breath.  The  first 
delicate  outpouring  of  soul  to  soul,  which  with 
others  usually  precedes  and  prepares  the  way 
for  the  first  embrace,  with  these  two  followed 
it.  The  first  true  questions  stole  through  the 
twilight,  the  first  true  answers  floated  back. 
Light  as  a  breath,  soft  as  down,  the  words  feU 
on  the  air,  and  in  the  same  way  were  wafted 
back.  Thus  it  was  that  Mildred  at  last  found 
the  courage,  softly,  hesitatingly,  to  ask  if   h« 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  77 

had  not  considered  her  conduct  very  strange. 
He  assured  her  that  it  liad  not  seemed  so  to 
him,  no,  not  once.  Had  he  not  noticed  that  she 
had  been  silent  throughout  the  entire  inter- 
view yesterday  ?  No,  he  had  not  observed  it. 
Had  he  not  thought  —  For  a  long  time  she 
failed  to  find  words,  but  they  came  finally  in  a 
low  whisper,  and  with  averted  face,  —  that  she 
was  very  hasty  in  yielding  to  him  ?  No,  he  had 
only  thought  how  delightfully  the  whole  thing 
had  come  to  pass.  But  what  did  he  think  of 
her  for  crying,  the  first  time  he  saw  her? 
Well,  he  had  not  comprehended  it  then,  but 
now  he  understood  it  very  well,  and  he  was 
glad  that  she  was  just  as  she  was. 

All  these  answers  made  her  so  happy  that 
she  longed  to  be  alone.  And  as  he  had  divined 
this  too,  he  rose  softly  and  bade  her  go  to  bed. 
She  got  up  also.  He  nodded  and  went  slowly 
to  the  stable,  where  he  was  to  sleep ;  but  she 
hastened  into  the  sheeling,  undressed  herself, 
and  not  until  she  was  in  bed  did  she  clasp  her 
hands  and  thank  God.  Oh,  how  she  thanked 
Him !  She  thanked  Him  for  Hans,  for  his 
love,  his  forbearance,  his  charming  nature ;  she 
could  not  find  words  for  all  she  wanted  to  say ; 
so  she  thanked  God  for  all,  all,  everything, 
even  for  the  pain  of  these  two  days ;  f(;r  how 


78  THE   BRroAL  MARCH. 

great  had  it  not  made  her  joy.  She  gave 
thanks  for  the  solitude  of  the  mountain,  and 
prayed  God  to  accompany  her  from  these  lofty 
heights  down  to  her  parents,  then  turned  her 
thoughts  again  to  Hans,  and  gave  thanks  for 
him,  fervent  thanks. 

When  she  came  out  in  the  morning  —  Beret 
still  slept  —  Hans  was  standing  in  the  yard. 
The  dog  had  had  a  whipping  :  it  had  disturbed 
a  ptarmigan,  and  was  now  lying  at  its  master's 
feet  trying  to  curry  favor  with  him.  When 
Hans  saw  Mildred  he  released  the  dog  ;  the  de- 
lighted animal  sprang  up  on  hira  and  on  her,  it 
barked  a  good-morning  greeting,  wagged  its 
tail,  and  was  the  living  expression  of  their 
bright,  young  happiness.  Hans  helped  Mil- 
dred and  the  boys  with  the  morning  work,  and 
when  at  last  they  sat  down  to  breakfast.  Beret 
too  had  risen.  Every  time  Hans  glanced  at 
Beret  she  blushed,  and  when  Mildred,  after 
they  had  left  the  table,  took  hold  of  his  watch- 
chain  while  she  was  talking  with  him.  Beret 
hastened  from  the  room.  She  was  hard  to  find 
when  they  were  ready  to  go. 

"Listen,  Mildred,"  said  Hans,  after  they  had 
gone  a  short  distance,  coming  nearer  to  her  and 
walking  softly :  "  I  have  been  thinking  of  some- 
thing I  did  not  find  an  opportunity  to  say  ta 
you  yesterday." 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  79 

His  eoice  sounded  so  solemn  that  she  raised 
her  eyes  to  his  face.  He  spoke  slowly,  and 
without  looking  at  her. 

"  I  wanted  to  ask  you  —  if  it  is  the  will  of 
God  that  we  should  be  united  —  to  come  home 
to  my  house  after  the  wedding." 

She  grew  red,  and  after  a  while  answered 
evasively,  — 

"  What  would  father  and  mother  say  to 
that?" 

He  walked  on  for  some  time  before  he  re- 
plied, — 

"  I  did  not  suppose  it  would  matter  much  to 
them  if  we  two  were  agreed." 

It  was  the  first  time  his  words  had  wounded 
her.  She  made  no  rejoinder.  He  seemed  to 
be  waiting  for  her  to  speak,  and  finally  added 
more  softly,  — 

"  It  is  my  wish  that  we  two  should  be  alone 
—  that  we  might  become  used  to  each  other." 

Now  she  began  to  understand  him  better; 
but  she  could  not  yet  find  words.  He  walked 
on  as  before,  slowly  and  without  looking  at  ber ; 
he,  too,  was  silent  now.  She  felt  oppressed  and 
gave  him  a  searching  look.  She  saw  that  he 
was  very  pale. 

"  But,  Hans !  "  she  exclaimed,  and  paused, 
without  being  herself  aware  of  it. 


80  THE  BRIDAL   MARCH. 

Hans  also  stood  still,  glanced  hastily  at  her 
and  then  at  the  gun  he  had  rested  0)i  the 
ground  and  was  now  twirling  round. 

"Are  not  you  willing  to  come  home  with 
me?" 

His  voice  was  smothered,  but  the  gaze  he 
fixed  on  her  became  suddenly  full  and  steady. 

"  Yes,  of  course  I  am  1 "  she  hastened  to  re- 
ply. 

Her  eyes  rested  calmly  in  his,  a  flush  mantled 
his  cheeks,  he  shifted  his  gim  to  the  left  hand, 
extending  the  right  to  her. 

"  Thank  you  I  "  whispered  he,  and  gave  her 
hand  a  warm  pressure. 

They  walked  on. 

The  sole  thought  she  gathered  from  this,  she 
expatiated  on  in  her  own  mind,  and  finally 
could  no  longer  keep  it  to  herself. 

"  You  do  not  know  my  parents." 

He  walked  on  some  moments  before  he  re- 
plied, — 

"  No ;  but  after  you  have  come  home  with 
me,  I  will  have  time  to  become  acquainted  with 
them." 

"  They  are  so  good,"  she  added. 

"  So  I  have  heard  from  every  one." 

He  said  tliis  firmly  but  coldly. 

Before  she  had  time  to  think  or  speak  again 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  81 

he  began  to  tell  her  about  his  borne,  about  his 
brothers  and  sisters,  about  the  poverty  they 
bad  all  worked  their  way  up  from,  about  how 
capable,  true,  and  cheerful  his  brothers  and  sis- 
ters were,  about  the  summer  visitors  and  the 
employment  they  furnished,  about  the  build- 
ings on  the  place,  and  especially  the  new  house 
he  would  now  erect,  and  which  should  be  for 
themselves,  and  how  she  should  have  the  su- 
pervision of  eveiything,  but  also  plenty  of 
help ;  indeed,  every  one  would  be  perfectly  de- 
voted to  her,  and  he  not  least  of  all !  While 
he  was  talking  they  quickened  their  pace ;  he 
spoke  with  warmth,  came  closer  to  her,  and 
when  he  got  through  they  were  walking  hand 
in  hand. 

Yes,  truly;  his  love  for  his  home  and  his 
people  made  an  impression  on  her,  and  the 
unknown  attracted,  but  there  was  something, 
nevertheless,  something  that  seemed  like  a 
wrong  to  her  own  tender-hearted  parents.  Slie 
began  therefore  anew,  — 

"  But,  Hans  !  Mother  is  growing  old  a?  a 
father  is  still  older  ;  they  have  suffered  much  - 
they  need  help ;  they  have  toiled  hard,  and  "  — 
She  either  would  not  or  could  not  say  mort- 

He  slackened  his  speed  and  looked  smiling 
at  her. 

f 


82  THE   BRIDAL   MARCH. 

"  Mildred,  you  mean  to  say  that  the  gard  is 
intended  for  you  ?  " 

She  flushed,  but  made  no  reply. 

"Ah,  well  —  sufficient  unto  the  day  is  the 
evil  thereof  !  But  if  they  ever  want  to  have 
us  take  their  places,  it  is  they  who  must  request 
it  of  «*s." 

He  said  this  tenderly ;  but  she  knew  very 
well  all  that  it  signified  I  Cautious  as  she  was, 
and  accustomed  to  consider  the  thoughts  of 
others  before  her  own,  she  submitted.  But  it 
was  not  long  now  before  they  got  so  far  on 
their  way  that  they  could  see  Tingvold  lying 
at  their  feet.  And  then  her  eyes  wandered 
from  the  gard  up  to  him,  as  though  it  should 
speak  for  itself  !  The  broad,  bright  hill-slopes, 
encircled  by  the  forest,  the  buildings,  spread 
out  so  peacefully  in  the  subdued  sunshine,  but 
so  large  and  substantial,  looked  very  beautiful. 
The  valley  lay  below,  the  noisy  stream  mean- 
dered through  it,  gard  after  gard  might  be  seen 
down  on  the  plain,  and  on  the  opposite  side  of 
the  valley  and  gard  after  gard  on  this  side , 
but  none  of  them,  not  a  single  one,  equal  to 
Tingvold,  none  so  fruitful,  none  so  imposing  to 
the  eye,  not  one  so  sheltered  in  its  own  home- 
like comfort,  and  yet  so  sparkling  on  every 
side  !  When  she  saw  that  he  was  afifected  by 
the  sight,  she  colored  with  pleasure. 


THE  BBIDAL  MABCH.  8ft 

"  Yes,"  answered  he,  for  she  had  actually 
asked  a  question  I  "  Yes,  it  is  true,  Tingvold 
is  a  fine  gard ;  it  has  scarcely  its  match."  He 
smiled  and  bowed  over  her.  "  But  I  care  more 
for  you,  Mildred,  than  for  Tingvold ;  may  I 
not  hope  that  you,  too,  care  more  for  me  than 
for  Tingvold?" 

Since  this  was  the  way  he  took  it,  there  was 
nothing  left  to  her  but  silence.  Moreover,  he 
looked  so  happy,  and  he  sat  down,  and  she 
seated  herself  at  his  side. 

"  Now  I  will  sing  something  for  you,"  he 
whispered. 

She  felt  happy. 

"  I  have  never  heard  you  sing,"  said  she. 

"  No,  you  have  not ;  and  although  my  singing 
is  talked  about  a  good  deal,  you  must  not  ex- 
pect anything  remarkable,  for  all  that  there  is 
about  it  is  that  I  feel  myself,  now^  I  must  sing." 

And  after  sitting  and  meditiiting  a  while,  he 
sang  his  bridal  song  to  the  tune  of  the  family 
march.  He  sang  very  softly,  but  such  an  ex- 
ultant tone  she  had  never  heard  in  any  voice  ! 
The  gard  lay  before  her,  the  gard  from  which 
the  procession  would  start ;  she  followed  the 
road  with  her  eyes  all  the  way  to  the  bridge 
across  the  stream,  then  followed  the  road  on 
the  other  side  as  far  as  the  church,  into  the 


84  THE  BBroAL  MARCH. 

birch  forest  up  on  a  hill,  and  the  cluster  of 
gards  near  at  hand.  The  view  was  not  a  brill- 
iant one,  for  the  day  was  not  clear  ;  but  thus  it 
best  suited  the  subdued  vision  of  her  dreams ; 
for  how  many  hundred  times  had  she  not  taken 
this  churchward  journey  in  her  thoughts,  only 
she  had  not  known  with  whom  !  The  words 
and  the  tune  enchanted  her ;  the  peculiar, 
warm,  quiet  voice  stirred  the  depths  of  her  nat- 
ure ;  her  eyes  were  full,  but  she  did  not  weep, 
neither  did  she  laugh ;  but  with  her  hand  in 
his  she  sat  and  looked,  now  at  him,  now  at  the 
landscape  before  her ;  and  when  while  thus  en- 
gaged the  smoke  curled  up  from  the  chimney 
at  home  at  the  first  kindling  of  the  fire  that 
was  to  boil  the  noonday  pot,  she  turned  and 
pointed.  Hans  had  just  finished  his  song  and 
now  he  also  sat  quietly  gazing  at  the  prospect. 

A  little  while  later,  they  were  once  more 
journeying  onward  through  the  birch  forest, 
and  Hans  had  some  difficulty  in  keeping  his 
dog  still.  Mildred's  heart  began  to  throb. 
Hans  agreed  with  her  that  he  would  wait  near 
by,  and  that  she  should  go  forward  alone.  He 
carried  her  over  a  few  swampy  places,  and  he 
felt  that  her  hand  was  moist. 

"Do  not  think  about  what  you  are  going  t<v 
say,"  he  whispered ;  "  just  let  the  words  come 
AS  they  will  of  themselves." 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  85 

She  did  not  utter  a  word  in  reply,  neither 
did  she  look  at  him.  They  emerged  from  the 
forest,  which  here  consisted  of  tall,  solemn  firs, 
among  which  they  had  been  slowly  walking 
while  he  told  her  in  a  whisper  about  her  great- 
grandfather's wooing  of  his  father's  sister  As- 
laug,  marvelous  stories  which  she  only  half 
heard,  but  which  nevertheless  gave  her  strength, 
—  they  emerged  from  the  forest  into  the  dawn- 
ing light  of  the  meadows  and  grain  fields,  and 
'hen  even  he  became  silent.  Now  she  raised 
her  eyes  to  his  face,  and  her  fear  was  so  ap- 
parent and  so  gi'eat,  that  he  became  very  anx- 
ious. He  could  find  no  words  to  bring  to  her 
aid,  —  the  case  was  too  fully  his  own.  They 
walked  side  by  side ;  some  brushwood  just  op- 
posite the  house  concealed  them  fi'om  the  occu- 
pants. When  they  got  so  far  that  he  thought 
she  ought  to  go  on  alone,  he  whistled  softly  to 
his  dog,  and  Mildred  understood  this  to  be  a 
sign  that  they  must  part.  She  paused,  look- 
ing so  unhappy  and  desolate  that  he  had  to 
whisper,  — 

"  I  will  pray  for  you  here,  Mildred ;  and  then 
I  will  come  when  you  need  me." 

Her  eyea  expressed  her  thanks,  but  not 
wholly,  for  she  could  neither  think  nor  see 
clearly.    And  thus  she  went  home.    As  soon  as 


86  THE   BRIDAL   MARCH. 

she  had  advanced  beyond  the  bushes,  she  could 
see  right  into  the  large  sitting-room  in  the  main 
building,  indeed,  clean  through  it,  for  the  room 
had  windows  on  either  side,  overlooking  both 
the  forest  above  and  the  parish  below.  Hans, 
meanwhile,  seated  himself  behind  the  nearest 
clump  of  bushes,  with  the  dog  at  his  side,  and 
so  he  could  see  everything  in  the  sitting-room 
as  well  as  she  ;  but  the  room  was  now  unoccu- 
pied. She  looked  round  once  when  she  came 
to  the  barn  ;  then  he  nodded  to  her.  She  turned 
the  corner  of  the  barn,  and  entered  the  farm- 
yard. 

Here  all  was  in  the  old  accustomed  order, 
and  stillness  reigned.  Some  hens  were  walk- 
ing about  on  the  barn-bridge.  Up  toward  the 
store-house  wall  to  the  left  the  poles,  used  for 
drying  hay  and  grain,  had  been  brought  for- 
ward since  she  went  away  ;  —  she  saw  no  other 
change.  She  longed  to  turn  to  the  right  to 
her  grandmother's  house ;  it  was  no  doubt  her 
fright  that  made  her  desire  this  respite  before 
the  interview  with  her  parents ;  but  there  by 
the  chopping-block  between  the  two  houses 
stood  her  father  shafting  an  axe.  He  wore  a 
knit  jacket,  with  his  suspenders  outside.  His 
head  was  bare  ;  his  long  thin  hair  was  blown 
over  his  face  by  the  breeze  that  was  just  begin 


THE  BRIDAL   MARCH.  87 

ning  to  sweep  u  from  the  valley.  He  looked 
go  well,  almost  cheerful  over  his  work,  that  the 
sight  of  him  inspired  her  with  courage.  He 
did  not  notice  her,  so  quietly  and  cautiously 
had  she  come  walking  up  over  the  chips. 

"  Good  day  !"  she  whispered. 

He  looked  at  her  for  a  moment,  in  surprise. 

"  Dear  me  !  Is  that  you  ?  Is  anything 
amiss  ?  "  he  added  hurriedly,  and  gazed  search- 
ingly  into  her  face. 

"  No,"  said  she,  coloring  slightly. 

But  his  eyes  remained  fastened  on  hers, 
which  she  did  not  dare  raise.  He  put  aside 
his  axe. 

"  Let  us  go  in  to  mother,"  said  he. 

On  the  way  to  the  house,  he  asked  various 
questions  in  regard  to  the  work  at  the  sseter, 
and  obtained  satisfactory  replies.  "  Now  Hans 
sees  us  go  in,"  thought  Mildred,  as  they  ad- 
vanced through  the  opening  between  the  barn 
and  the  store-house,  on  the  other  side.  When 
they  entered  the  house,  her  father  went  to  the 
Kitchen  door  and  opened  it. 

"  You  will  have  to  come  in,  mother,"  said  he, 
through  the  door ;  "  Mildred  is  here." 

"  Dear  me  !  Is  anything  the  matter  ?  "  was 
answered  from  the  kitchen. 

"  No,"  replied  Mildred,  from  behind  her  fa- 


88  THE  BBroAL  MARCH. 

ther,  coming  forward  to  the  door  herself,  and 
tfeen  going  out  to  her  mother,  who  sat  hi  front 
of  the  hearth,  peeling  potatoes  and  putting 
them  into  the  pot. 

Mildred's  mother  now  scrutinized  her  face  a^ 
closely  as  her  father  had  done,  and  with  the 
same  effect.  Randi  rose,  and  after  setting 
aside  the  dish  she  held,  she  went  to  the  oppo- 
side  door,  gave  some  orders  outside,  retraced 
her  steps,  took  off  her  kitchen  apron,  washed 
her  hands  and  came  forward.  They  all  repaired 
to  the  sitting-room. 

Mildred  knew  her  parents  well,  so  she  was 
sure  that  these  preparations  betokened  that 
they  themselves  expected  something  more  than 
common.  Her  courage  had  not  been  great  be- 
fore, and  now  it  grew  less.  Her  father  sat 
down  in  the  high  seat,  close  by  the  farthest 
window,  which  faced  the  parish.  Her  mother 
had  seated  herself  on  the  same  bench,  but 
nearer  to  the  kitchen  door.  Mildred  took  her 
place  on  the  first  seat,  that  is  to  say,  on  the  long 
bench  in  front  of  the  table.  Hans  could  see 
her  there  ;  he  could  also  look  right  into  her  fa- 
ther's face,  but  he  did  not  have  so  good  a  vie\i 
of  her  mother. 

Her  mother  asked,  as  the  father  had  done 
before,  about  the  steter,  obtained  the  same  in 


THE  BRIDAL  MABOH.  89 

formation  ana  a  little  more,  for  she  inqoired 
more  into  particulars.  Although  it  was  evi- 
dent that  both  parties  were  spinning  out  the 
conversation,  the  theme  was  soon  exhausted. 
In  the  silence  that  ensued  both  parents  looked 
at  Mildred.  She  avoided  their  eyes,  and  in- 
quired about  the  news  of  the  parish.  Although 
this  theme  was  dragged  out  to  the  utmost,  ity 
also,  came  to  an  end.  Then  the  same  silence, 
the  same  expectant  look  in  the  eyes  of  the  par- 
ents. Mildred  had  no  more  questions  to  ask, 
but  began  stroking  with  the  palm  of  her  hand 
the  bench  on  which  she  was  sitting. 

"  Have  you  been  to  your  grandmother's  ? " 
inquired  the  mother ;  she  was  beginning  to  bo 
alarmed. 

No,  Mildred  had  not.  This  was  an  acknowl- 
edgment that  she  had  come  here  on  a  definite 
errand,  and  she  felt  that  it  could  be  delayed  no 
longer  with  propriety. 

"  There  is  something  that  it  is  my  duty  to 
tell  you,"  the  young  girl  faltered  at  last,  her 
color  coming  and  going  and  her  eyes  cast  down. 
Her  parents  exchanged  troubled  glances.  Mil- 
dred raised  her  head^  and  fixed  on  them  a  pair 
of  wide-open,  beseeching  eyes. 

"  What  is  it,  my  child  ?  "  her  mother  anx- 
iously  asked,  as  she  met  hei  gaze. 


90  THE   BRIDAL   MARCH. 

"  I  am  betrothed,"  said  Mildred,  bowing  her 
head  and  bursting  into  tears. 

A  more  stunning  blow  could  not  have  fallen 
on  the  little  circle  I  Pale,  silent,  the  parents 
looked  at  each  other.  Their  steady,  gentle  Mil- 
dred, for  whose  prudence  and  obedience  they 
had  so  often  thanked  God,  had,  without  their 
advice,  without  their  knowledge,  taken  life's 
most  important  step,  one  which  also  determined 
the  parents'  past  and  future.  Mildi-ed,  mean 
while,  felt  every  thought  that  was  working  in 
their  minds,  and  fear  checked  her  tears.  Gen 
tly,  slowly,  her  father  asked,  — 

"  To  whom,  my  child?  " 

After  a  pause  the  answer  came  in  a  whis- 
uer, — 

"  It  is  to  Hans  Haugen." 

The  name  Haugen  had  not  been  mentioned 
in  this  house  for  more  than  twenty  years,  nor 
any  circumstance  connected  therewith.  From 
the  stand-point  the  parents  took,  only  harm 
had  como  from  Haugen  to  this  gard.  Mildred 
again  divined  their  thoughts;  she  sat  motion- 
less, awaiting  her  doom.  But  mildly  and  slowly 
once  more  the  father  said,  — 

"  We  do  not  know  this  man ;  neither  youi 
mother  nor  I.  Nor  were  we  aware  that  ^ot 
knew  him." 


THE  BRIDAL  SIARCH.  91 

"  No,  neither  did  I  know  him,"  said  Mil- 
dred. 

The  astonished  parents  looked  at  each  other. 

"  How  did  this  happen,  then  ?  " 

It  was  the  mother  who  spoke. 

"  Oh,  I  do  not  know  myself,"  said  Mildred. 

"Why,  dear  child,  we  ought  to  be  able  to 
control  our  actions." 

Mildred  made  no  reply. 

"We  thought,"  added  the  father,  meekly, 
"  that  we  could  trust  you^ 

Mildred  still  made  no  reply. 

"But  how  did  it  happen?"  repeated  the 
mother,  more  zealously.  "  You  must  surely 
know." 

"  No,  I  do  not  know.  I  only  know  that  I 
could  not  help  it ;  no,  indeed,  I  could  not.  She 
sat  clinging  with  both  hands  to  the  bench  as 
she  spoke. 

"  God  have  mercy  on  you,  then  !  What  can 
have  come  over  you  ?  " 

Mildred  made  no  reply.  Once  more  the 
father  had  a  subduing  influence  on  the  conver- 
sation.    In  a  calm,  friendly  tone,  he  asked,  — 

"  Why  did  you  not  speak  to  one  of  us,  my 
child  ?  " 

The  mother,  loo,  fell  into  this  vein,  and  said 
quietly,  — 


92  THE  BBIDAL  MABCH. 

"  You  know  how  fond  we  are  of  our  children, 
we,  who  have  lived  so  lonely  a  life  ;  and  we 
may  well  say,  of  you,  in  especial,  Mildred,  for 
you  have  been  dearer  than  all  else  to  ufl." 

Mildred  scarcely  knew  where  she  was  sit- 
ting. 

"  No,  we  did  not  think  that  you  would  for- 
sake us  thus." 

It  was  the  father  who  spoke.  Hushed  though 
his  voice  was,  it  pained  none  the  less. 

"  I  will  not  forsake  you,"  she  faltered. 

"  You  must  not  say  so,"  he  answered,  more 
gravely  than  he  had  yet  spoken,"  for  you  have 
already  left  us." 

Mildred  felt  that  this  was  true,  and  yet  it 
was  not  true ;  but  she  could  not  explain  this. 
Her  mother  said,  — 

"  Of  what  avail  is  it  to  us  that  we  have  led  a 
loving,  pious  life  with  our  children  ?  At  the 
first  temptation  "  —  For  her  daughter's  sake 
she  refrained  from  saying  more. 

But  IVIildred  could  not  stand  this  any  longer. 

"  I  will  not  forsake  you,"  she  cried.     "  I  do 
not  want  to  grieve  you.    I  only  could  not  —  no 
I  could  not  I "  and  flinging  herself  down  on  the 
table  with  her  face  toward  her  father,  and  hei 
head  on  her  arm,  she  sobbed  aloud. 

Neither  of  her  parents  had  the  heart  to  ic 


THE  BRIDAL   MARCH.  93 

crease  with  a  single  reproach  the  sorrow  she 
evidently  felt.  Consequently  a  hush  fell  upon 
the  room.  It  might  have  lasted  a  long  time; 
but  Hans  Haugen  noticed  from  his  hiding-place 
that  Mildred  needed  help.  His  huntsman's  eye 
had  seen  her  cast  herself  down  on  the  table, 
and  he  sprang  to  his  feet ;  soon  his  light  step 
was  heard  in  the  passage.  He  knocked  ;  every 
eye  was  fixed  on  the  door ;  but  no  one  said  : 
*'  Come  in  !  "  Mildred  half  rose,  her  face  red 
with  weeping;  the  door  opened,  Hans,  with  his 
gun  and  dog,  stood  on  the  threshold,  pale  but 
calm,  turned  and  closed  the  door,  while  the  dog 
walked,  wagging  its  tail,  to  Mildred.  Hans' 
thoughts  had  been  too  much  occupied  to  ob- 
serve that  the  dog  followed  him. 

"  Good-day  !  "  said  he.  Mildred  sank  back 
in  her*  seat,  drew  a  long  breath,  and  looked  at 
him,  relieved  ;  her  fright,  her  bad  conscience, 
was  all  gone,  she  tvas  right,  yes,  indeed,  she 
was  right,  —  now  God's  will  be  done  ! 

No  one  had  responded  to  his  greeting  ;  nor 
had  any  one  asked  him  to  come  forward. 

"  I  am  Hans  Haugen,"  said  he,  calmly ;  and 
he  rested  his  gun  on  the  floor,  and  stood  holding 
it.  After  the  parents  had  exchanged  glances  a 
few  times,  he  continued,  but  with  an  effort :  "  I 
came  here  vsdth  Mildred;  for  if  she  has  done 
wrong,  the  fault  is  mine." 


94  THE  BBIDAL   MARCH. 

Something  must  be  said ;  the  mother  looked 
at  the  father,  and  he  said,  finally,  that  this  had 
come  about  without  their  knowledge,  nor  could 
Mildred  give  any  explanation  of  how  it  had 
happened.  But  Hans  replied  that  he  could 
give  none  either. 

"  I  am  no  boy,"  said  he,  "  for  I  am  twenty- 
eight  years  old,  and  yet  this  came  about  in  such 
a  way  that  I,  who  never  thought  of  any  one  be- 
fore, could  not  think  of  anything  else  in  the 
world  from  the  moment  I  saw  her.  Had  she 
said  no  —  ah,  I  do  not  know  —  but  I  certainly 
never  would  have  amounted  to  very  much  after- 
ward." 

The  calm,  truthful  way  in  which  he  said  this, 
was  good  to  hear  ;  Mildred  trembled  in  her 
seat,  for  she  knew  that  his  words  presented  a 
new  view  of  the  case.  He  had  his  cap  on,  for 
it  was  not  customary  in  this  valley  for  a 
stranger  to  take  off  his  cap  on  entering  a  house ; 
but  now  he  involuntarily  removed  it,  hung  it 
on  the  barrel  of  his  gun  and  held  his  hands 
over  it.  There  was  something  in  the  young 
man's  whole  manner  that  demanded  courtesy. 

"Young  as  Mildred  is,"  said  the  mother, 
"none  of  us  thought  that  she  would  so  soon  be- 
gin to  enter  into  anything  of  this  sort." 

"  That  may  be  true ;  but  then  you  know  I 


THE   BRIDAL   MARCH.  95 

Alii  mucli  older,"  replied  he,  "  and  the  manage- 
ment of  affairs  at  my  house  is  not  very  exten- 
sive; it  will  not  require  great  effort,  and  I  have 
plenty  of  help." 

The  parents  looked  at  each  other,  at  Mildred, 
at  him. 

"  Would  she  have  to  go  home  with  you  ?  " 
asked  the  father  incredulously,  almost  scorn- 
fully. 

"  Yes,"  said  Hans  ;  *'  it  is  not  the  gard  I  am 
courting." 

He  flushed ;  Mildred  did  the  same. 

If  the  gard  had  sunk  into  the  earth,  it  could 
not  have  astonished  the  parents  more  than  to 
have  it  disdained,  and  Mildred's  silence  showed 
them  that  she  agreed  with  Hans.  At  all  eveots, 
this  decision  of  the  young  people  was  some- 
thing wholly  beyond  the  calculations  of  the 
parents  ;  they  felt  themselves  humiliated. 

"  It  was  you  who  said  you  would  not  forsake 
us,"  remarked  the  mother  in  quiet  reproach, 
and  her  words  struck  home. 

But  Hans  came  to  Mildred's  aid. 

"  Forsake  you  ?  Why,  every  child  who  mar- 
ries must  leave  its  parents."  He  smiled,  and 
added,  in  a  kindly  tone,  "  The  distance  is  not 
great ;  it  is  but  little  over  five  miles  from  here 
to  Haugen." 


96  THE   BRIDAL  MABCJH. 

Words,  however,  are  of  but  little  avail  on 
such  occasions  ;  thoughts  will  take  their  course 
in  spite  of  them.  Mildred's  parents  felt  for- 
saken, aye,  betrayed,  by  the  determination  of 
the  young  people.  That  it  was  possible  to  live 
comfortably  at  Haugen  they  knew  very  well ; 
travelers  who  visited  the  place  had  given  it  a 
name ;  there  had  even  now  and  then  been  some- 
thing about  it  in  the  papers  ;  but  still  Haugen 
was  Haugen,  and  that  3Iildred,  their  favorite 
child,  should  take  the  family's  journey  back  to 
Haugen,  it  was  too  much  !  Under  such  cir- 
cumstances others  would  perhaps  have  been 
angry,  but  these  two  preferred  to  avoid  what 
they  did  not  like.  They  exchanged  significant 
looks,  and  the  father  said,  mildly,  — 

"  This  is  too  much  at  once,  we  are  unable  to 
answer  yet." 

"  No,"  joined  in  the  mother  ;  "  we  had  not 
expected  such  important  news ;  nor  to  receive 
it  in  this  way." 

Hans  hesitated  a  little  before  he  said,  — 

"  It  is  true  that  Mildred  sliould  have  asked 
her  parents  first.  But  how,  if  neither  of  us 
knew  of  it  before  it  was  too  late?  That  is 
really  the  way  it  was.  So  we  could  not  do  any 
thing  else  than  come,  both  of  us,  as  soon  as  we 
were  engaged,  and  that  we  have  done.  You 
must  not  be  too  severe." 


THE  BRIDAL   MARCH.  97 

After  this  there  was  nothing  to  be  said  on 
the  score  of  their  conduct,  and  his  calm  way  of 
Bpeaking  gave  force  to  his  words.  On  the 
whole,  the  father  noticed  that  he  was  not  an 
equal  match  to  Hans,  and  so  small  was  the  con- 
fidence he  had  in  himself  he  felt  anxious  to 
drop  the  question. 

"  We  do  not  know  you,"  said  he,  and  looked 
at  his  wife  ;  "  we  must  have  time  to  consider." 

"Yes,  that  is  certainly  best," observed  Randi, 
"  for  we  ought  to  know  the  person  to  whom  we 
give  our  daughter." 

Mildred  felt  the  indignity  of  this  remark,  but 
she  looked  imploringly  at  Hans. 

"That  is  true,"  replied  Hans,  and  began 
with  one  hand  to  twirl  his  gun,  "  although  I  do 
not  think  there  are  many  in  the  parish  who  are 
very  much  better  known  than  I.  But  perhaps 
some  one  has  been  speaking  ill  of  rae  ?  " 

He  looked  up  at  them.  Mildred  felt  embar- 
rassed for  her  parents,  and  they  felt  that  they 
had  possibly  awakened  suspicion,  and  this  they 
did  not  wish. 

"  No,  we  have  heard  nothing  against  you," 
both  exclaimed  in  a  breath,  and  the  mother 
hastened  to  add,  that  the  fact  was  they  did  not 
know  him  because  they  had  so  seldom  heard 
anything  about  the  Haugen  family. 


98  THE   BRIDAL   MARCH. 

She  meant  no  harm  in  the  least  by  this;  but 
no  sooner  had  the  words  crossed  her  lips  than 
she  realized  that  they  were  not  happily  ex- 
pressed, and  she  noticed  that  both  her  husband 
and  Mildred  thought  the  same.  There  was 
some  delay  before  the  answer  came. 

"  If  the  house  of  Tingvold  has  failed  to  in- 
quire after  the  Haugen  family,  the  fault  is  not 
ours  ;  for  we  have  been  poor  people  until 
lately." 

There  was  a  reproach  in  these  words  that  all 
three  felt  to  be  true,  and  that  profoundly  so. 
But  never  until  now  had  it  occurred  to  the  hus- 
band and  wife,  resei-ved  and  absorbed  in  their 
sorrow  as  they  had  been,  that  they  had  neg- 
lected a  duty ;  never  until  now  had  they  con- 
sidered that  their  poor  relatives  at  Haugen 
should  not  have  been  made  to  suffer  for  misfort- 
ur.es  for  which  thoy  were  in  nowise  to  blame. 
They  stole  shy  glances  at  each  other,  and  kept 
their  seats,  covered  with  shame.  Hans  had 
spoken  cautiously,  although  the  mother's  an 
Bwer  could  not  but  have  annoyed  him.  Both 
parents  felt  then  that  they  had  a  noble  mar 
before  them,  and  that  in  a  double  sense  they 
had  something  to  make  amends  for.  And  so 
the  father  said,  — 

"  Let  us  take  a  littlo  more  time.     Cannof 


THE   BRIDAL   MARCH.  99 

you  stay  to  dinner  with  us  ?  Then  we  can  have 
a  chance  to  talk  a  little." 

"  You  must  come  and  sit  down,"  added  the 
mother. 

Both  rose. 

Hans  put  aside  his  gun,  with  his  cap  on  it, 
and  crossed  the  floor  to  where  Mildred  sat ;  she 
at  once  rose,  she  knew  not  herself  why.  The 
mother  said  there  was  a  good  deal  to  be  seen  to 
in  the  kitchen,  and  left  the  room.  The  father 
acted  as  if  he  were  about  to  follow  her  exam- 
ple ;  but  Mildred,  not  wishing  to  be  alone  with 
Hans  as  long  as  her  parents  refused  their  con- 
sent, quickly  moved  to  the  other  door.  They 
saw  her  walking  across  the  farm-yard  toward 
her  grandmother's  dwelling.  Then  the  father 
could  not  leave  Hans  alone,  so  he  turned  and 
sat  down. 

The  two  men  talked  together  about  indif- 
ferent matters ;  first  of  all  about  the  hunt- 
ing, and  about  their  affairs  on  the  mountain  in 
the  summer  huts  ;  about  the  income  from  such 
sources,  and  much  more  to  like  effect.  After- 
wards they  came  to  Haugen  and  the  tourists 
that  found  their  way  there,  to  the  cultivation 
of  the  soil  in  these  upland  regions ;  and  all 
that  the  father  heard  gave  him  the  impression 
that  everything  was  going  on    well  and  pros- 


100  THE  BRIDAL  MARCH. 

perously  at  Haugen.  The  mother,  coming  and 
going  with  her  preparations  for  dinner,  often 
had  occasion  to  listen,  and  it  was  very  evident 
that  the  shyness  of  the  old  people  was  gradu- 
ally becoming  transformed  into  confidence ;  for 
the  questions  began  to  grow  more  to  the  point. 

They  all  noticed  Hans's  good  manners  at 
table.  He  sat  at  the  wall,  just  opposite  Mil- 
dred and  her  mother ;  while  the  father  sat  at 
the  end  of  the  table  in  the  high  seat.  The 
farm  people  had  had  their  dinner  earlier,  and 
in  the  kitchen  where  the  family  themselves 
usually  ate  with  them.  But  the  fact  probably 
was  that  on  this  occasion  they  did  not  care  to 
have  Hans  seen.  At  table  Mildred  felt  that 
her  mother  looked  at  her  whenever  Hans 
smiled.  He  was  one  of  those  grave-looking 
people  whose  faces  light  up  pleasantly  when 
they  smile.  Several  sucli  things  she  put  to- 
gether to  form  the  result  her  heart  was  set  on 
having.  But  she  felt  so  uncertain  about  mat-- 
ters  that  the  atmosphere  of  suspense  in  the 
room  was  so  oppresive  to  her,  that  she  for  her 
part  longed  to  get  away,  and  after  dinner  she 
went  again  to  her  grandmother's. 

The  men  took  a  turn  round  the  gard,  but  so 
directing  their  steps  that  they  did  not  come 
either  where  the  farm  laborers  were,  or  where 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  101 

the  grandmother  could  see  them.  Later  they 
Bat  down  in  the  sitting-room  again,  and  by  this 
time  the  mother  was  through  with  her  work 
and  could  join  them.  The  conversation  became 
by  degrees  more  confidential,  as  might  have 
been  expected,  and  as  time  wore  on  (yet,  to  be 
sure,  not  before  evening)  the  mother  ventured 
to  beg  Hans  to  tell  how  it  had  all  come  about 
between  him  and  Mildred,  as  Mildred  had  her- 
self been  unable  to  give  any  information.  Per- 
haps it  was  chiefly  feminine  curiosity  that  led 
the  mother  to  ask  this,  but  to  Hans  the  ques^ 
tion  was  exceedingly  welcome. 

He  gave  no  account  of  the  first  interview, 
for  he  could  not  do  so ;  but  in  full  details  and 
with  profound  joy  he  narrated  the  events  of 
the  previous  day,  telling  of  Beret's  stormy 
march  in  search  of  him,  because  Mildred  was 
distracted  with  anguish  of  mind  on  her  parents' 
account ;  and  when  he  came  to  Mildred  herself 
and  depicted  her  flight  toward  home,  and  how, 
exhausted  in  soul  and  body,  she  had  been  com- 
pelled to  rest,  and  had  fallen  asleep,  desolate 
and  unhappy,  —  then  it  seemed  to  the  old  peo- 
ple that  they  recognized  their  child  once  more. 
They  could  not  avoid  feeling,  especially  the 
mother,  that  they  had  been  too  severe. 

But  while  the  young  man  talked  about  Mil 


102  THE  BRIDAL   MARCH. 

dred,  he  was  telling,  without  being  aware  of 
it,  about  himself ;  for  his  love  for  Mildred 
glowed  from  every  word  and  made  the  par- 
ents glad.  He  grew  conscious  of  this  at  last 
and  became  happy  himself;  and  these  two,  who 
were  unaccustomed  to  such  unbroken  heartiness 
and  strength,  felt  genuine  happiness.  This 
kept  continually  increasing,  until  the  mother 
involuntarily  exclaimed,  smiling,  — 

"  Why,  I  really  believe  you  got  as  far  as 
the  wedding,  you  two,  before  either  of  us  were 
consulted." 

The  father  chimed  in  with  a  laugh  in  order 
to  help  the  question,  and  Hans  replied,  as 
Beemed  appropriate  to  the  occasion,  by  softly 
humming  a  single  line  of  the  bridal  march,  — 

"  Speed  us  on,  speed  us  on,  we  're  in  haste,  yoa  and  I,"  — 

md  laughed,  but  was  discreet  enough  to  turn 
the  conversation  at  once  to  something  else.  By 
a  mere  chance  he  looked  up  at  Randi  and  saw 
that  she  was  very  pale.  In  a  moment  he  felt 
that  he  had  done  something  wrong  in  remind- 
ing her  of  this  tune,  and  that  just  now.  End- 
rid  looked  anxiously  at  his  wife,  whose  agita- 
tion kept  increasing  until  it  had  risen  to  such 
a  pitch  that  she  could  no  longer  remain  in  th« 
room ;  she  rose  and  went  out. 


THE  BRroAL  MABCH.  108 

"  I  am  afraid  I  have  done  wiong,"  said  Hans, 
in  alarm. 

Endrid  made  no  reply.  Thorouglily  dis- 
tressed, Hans  rose  to  follow  Mildred's  mother 
and  offer  her  an  apology,  but  sat  down  again, 
protesting  that  he  had  not  meant  the  least 
harm. 

"  Oh,  you  could  not  be  expected  to  know," 
answered  Endrid. 

"  Cannot  you  go  after  her  and  make  all  right 
again  ?  " 

He  had  acquired  such  confidence  in  this 
man  that  he  felt  at  perfect  liberty  to  ask  this 
of  him.     But  Endrid  replied,  — 

"  No  ;  let  her  alone  ;  I  know  her." 

Hans,  who  had  a  little  while  before  felt  al- 
most at  the  goal  of  his  wishes,  was  now  plunged 
in  disappointment,  and  could  not  be  coaxed 
into  good  spirits  again,  although  the.  father  ex- 
ercised the  utmost  patience  in  trying  to  cheer 
him.  The  dog  lent  his  aid,  by  coming  forward 
and  joining  them,  for  Endrid  had  asked  repeat- 
edly about  it  and  afterwards  given  a  detailed 
account  of  a  dog  he  had  once  owned,  and  whose 
ways  he  had  closely  observed,  as  solitary  peo- 
ple are  wont  to  do. 

Now  Randi  had  gone  outside  of  the  door,  and 
seated  herself  on  the  flag-stone.     Her  daugli- 


104  THE  BRroAL  MARCH. 

ter's  betrothed  had  caused  the  bridal  march 
to  jar  more  than  ever  the  memories  she  bore 
within  her.  She  had  not,  like  her  daughter, 
given  herself  to  a  man  whom  she  loved !  The 
shame  of  her  ride  to  church  had  been  just,  for 
she  had  not  been  sitting  in  perfect  truth  at  her 
bridegroom's  side.  The  mortification  and  grief, 
the  loss  of  her  children,  the  long  years  of  suf- 
fering and  conflict,  all  rushed  over  her.  All 
she  had  read  and  prayed  over  this  pain  had 
then  been  of  no  avail,  for  the  most  violent  agi- 
tation now  overpowered  her  !  That  this  could 
happen  to  her,  cast  her  despairingly  down  into 
the  depths  of  self-accusation ;  she  felt  the  scorn 
of  the  people  over  her  false  churchward  ride ; 
she  again  scourged  her  own  impotence,  that 
she  could  not  stop  her  tears  that  time,  her 
memories  now ;  that  through  her  lack  of  self- 
control  she  had  put  her  parents  in  a  false  light, 
destroyed  her  own  health,  and  thereby  mur- 
dered the  children  she  bore, — all  the  time  feign- 
ing a  piety  she  did  not  feel,  for  she  was  sure 
of  this  now.  Oh,  to  think  she  had  progressed 
no  farther  than  this  !  So  wretched,  so  pitiably 
wretched  she  felt,  that  she  did  not  dare  look  up 
to  God  ;  for  how  had  she  not  disappointed  her- 
self and  Him !  But  wherefore,  she  was  forced 
to   adk,  wherelore  call  to  light  just  now  aL 


THE   BRIDAL  MARCH.  105 

the  hatefulness  that  had  coiled  itself  about  her 
inner  being  ?  Was  she  envious  of  Mildred  ? 
Envious  of  her  own  daughter  ?  No,  she  was 
not,  she  knew  she  was  not,  and  she  began  to 
hold  up  her  head  once  more  !  Now  her  sin 
should  be  atoned  for  by  her  daughter.  What 
a  glorious  thought !  Could  our  children  atone 
for  our  sins  ?  Yes,  as  truly  as  they  are  a  work 
of  our  own,  they  could,  for  the  truth  that  was 
in  Mildred,  the  mother,  frail  as  she  was,  had 
fostered.  But  in  order  to  profit  thereby  she 
must  enter  into  it  herself  in  repentance,  in 
gratitude  !  And  before  Randi  knew  how  it 
was  herself,  she  could  pray  again,  could  bend 
in  profound  humility  and  contrition  before  the 
Lord,  who  had  once  more  revealed  to  her  what 
she  was  without  Him.  She  prayed  for  mercy, 
as  those  pray  who  are  petitioning  for  their 
lives,  for  now  she  would  have  life  again ;  this 
she  felt !  Now  her  debt  was  cancelled ;  this 
had  been  the  final  settlement,  she  was  merely 
overwhelmed  by  it !  And  she  rose  and  looked 
ap,  while  the  tears  streamed  down  her  cheeks  : 
she  felt  at  ease  ;  there  was  One  who  had  lifted 
her  burden  from  her  !  But  had  she  not  often 
felt  thus  before  ?  No,  never  as  she  did  now , 
her  first  victory  had  just  been  won  I  And  she 
advanced  farther  and  she  felt  tnis  :  she  belonge<? 


106  THE   BRIDAL   MARCH. 

fce  herself  I  Something  was  rent  asunder  that 
until  now  had  held  her  in  bondage  ;  through 
every  motion  sho  made  she  felt  that  now  she 
was  free,  soul  and  body !  If,  next  to  God,  she 
must  thank  her  daughter  for  this,  why,  then, 
to  Mildred  must  be  granted  the  full  enjoyment 
of  her  happiness  I  She  came  to  the  porch  of 
grandmother's  house ;  but  none  of  those  within 
recognized  her  step.  She  took  hold  of  the 
latch  and  opened  the  door,  as  though  she  were 
another  person. 

"  Mildred,  come  here  I  "  said  she,  and  Mil- 
ired  and  the  grandmother  looked  at  each  other, 
tor  this  surely  was  not  Mildred's  mother. 

Mildred  sprang  forward.  What  could  be  the 
matter  ?  Her  mother  drew  her  forward  by  the 
arm,  closed  the  door  behind  her  so  that  they 
were  alone,  and  then  flung  herself  on  her 
daughter's  neck  and  wept  and  wept,  while  she 
embraced  her  with  vigor  and  an  intensity  of 
bliss,  whicli  Mildred,  exalted  by  her  love,  could 
return  with  all  her  heart. 

"  God  forever  bless  and  reward  you  ! "  whis- 
pered her  mother. 

The  two  in  the  family  sitting-room  saw  them 
coming  walking  across  the  yard,  hand  in  hand, 
and  they  saw,  moreover,  that  their  coming  waa 
prophetic.      The  door  was  opened,  they  both 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  107 

entered  and  came  forward.  But  instead  of  giv- 
ing Mildred  to  Hans,  or  saying  anything  to  the 
father  or  to  him,  Randi  merely  clasped  her 
daughter  in  her  arms  again,  and  in  a  fresh 
burst  of  emotion,  once  more  cried,  — 
"  God  forever  bless  and  reward  you !  " 
A  little  while  later  all  four  sat  in  the  grand- 
mother's room.  The  old  lady  was  very  happy  ; 
she  had  for  a  long  time  past  been  kept  posted 
by  the  young  people  in  regard  to  Hans  Hau- 
gen,  and  she  comprehended  at  once  that  this 
alliance  would  serve  as  an  atonement  in  the 
lives  of  her  son  and  daughter-in-law.  More- 
over, the  light-hearted  old  lady  thought  Hans 
was  extremely  handsome  !  They  all  remained 
with  her,  and  the  day  ended  by  the  father,  after 
singing  a  psalm,  reading  from  a  prayer-book  a 
passage  beginning :  "  The  Lord  has  been  in  our 
house." 

Of  the  remainder  of  their  lives  I  shall  only 
single  out  two  days,  and  of  these  but  a  few 
moments  in  each. 

The  first  is  the  wedding-day  of  the  yoi:^ 
people.  Inga,  Mildred's  cousin,  who  was  no^w 
herself  a  wife,  had  come  to  attend  to  the  adorn- 
ment of  the  bride.  This  was  done  in  the  store- 
house ;  the  old  chest,  in  which  the  bridal  silver 


108  THE  BRffiAL  MARCH. 

was  kept, — the  crown,  the  belt,  the  buckle,  the 
brooches,  the  rings,  —  was  brought  forward. 
Grandmother  had  the  key  to  it,  she  was  there 
herself  to  open  it,  and  Beret  was  with  her,  as 
her  assistant.  Mildred  had  already  decked  her- 
self in  her  bridal  dress,  and  all  the  finery  that 
belonged  to  her,  when  this  splendor  (which 
Beret  and  the  grandmother  had  polished  the 
week  before)  was  brought  to  light,  glittering 
and  heavy.  Article  after  article  was  tried  on. 
Beret  held  the  glass  for  the  bride.  The  old 
lady  told  how  so  many  of  her  family  had  worn 
this  silver  on  their  wedding-day,  and  how  the 
happiest  of  all  had  been  her  own  mother,  As- 
laug  Haugen. 

Just  then  the  old  family  bridal  march  was 
heard  outside  :  every  one  in  the  store-house 
paused,  listened,  then  hastened  to  the  door  to 
see  what  was  going  on.  The  first  person  their 
eyes  fell  on  was  Endrid,  the  bride's  father.  He 
had  seen  Hans  Haugen,  and  his  brothers  and 
sisters,  come  riding  toward  the  gard;  it  was 
a  rare  thing  for  Endrid  to  have  any  unusual 
ideas ;  but  this  time  it  occurred  to  him  that 
these  guests  should  be  received  with  the  ances- 
tral tune.  He  gave  the  fiddlers  orders  to  go 
forward  playing  it ;  and  there  he  now  stood  him- 
<ielf  in  their  midst  near  the  store-house,  hold 


THE   BBroAL  MAECH.  109 

ing  in  his  hand  a  silver  tankard  filled  with  the 
wedding  ale.  Several  others  had  joined  him. 
Hans  and  his  faithful  brothers  and  sisters  drove 
into  the  gard  and  it  was  very  evident  that  this 
reception  touched  them. 

An  hour  later,  as  a  matter  of  course,  the 
bridal  march  was  struck  up  again ;  that  was 
when  the  bride  and  bridegroom,  and  the  bride's 
parents,  and  grandmother  and  Beret,  and  the 
bridegroom's  brothers  and  sisters  came  out  in 
couples,  with  the  fiddlers  at  their  head,  to  get 
into  the  carts.  There  are  moments  in  our  lives 
when  all  signs  are  favorable,  and  at  such  a 
moment  the  bridal  party  drove  forth  from 
Tingvold  one  bright  spring  day.  At  church 
there  was  assembled  so  great  a  multitude  of 
people  that  no  one  remembered  ever  having 
seen  anything  to  equal  it.  Every  one  in  the 
crowd  knew  the  family  history,  and  how  it  was 
interwoven  with  this  bridal  march  which  now 
rang  out  jubilantly  through  the  glad  sunshine, 
its  tones  encircling  the  bride  and  bridegroom, 
and  the  happy  bridal  party. 

And  because  all  their  thoughts  centred  in 
this  one,  the  priest,  too,  chose  a  text  for  the 
wedding  discourse  that  afforded  him  an  oppor- 
tunity of  dwelling  on  the  idea  that  children  are 
the  crowning  glory  of  our  lives  when  they  are 


110  THE  BRIDAL   MARCH. 

B  reflection  of  our  honor,  our  development,  oui 
labor. 

On  the  way  out  of  the  church  Hans  paused  in 
front  of  the  church  door  ;  he  said  something  ; 
the  bride,  in  her  supreme  happiness,  did  not 
hear  what  it  was,  but  she  divined  its  meaning. 
He  wanted  her  to  look  at  Ole  Haugen's  grave, 
which  was  richly  decked  with  flowers.  She  did 
BO,  and  they  passed  out  of  the  churchyard  in 
such  a  way  that  their  garments  touched  the 
head-board  of  his  grave.  The  parents  fol- 
lowed. 

The  other  moment  of  their  lives  which  must 
here  be  unveiled,  relates  to  the  first  visit  of 
Endrid  and  Randi  as  grandparents.  Hans  had 
had  his  way,  and  the  newly-married  couple  were 
established  at  Haugen,  although  he  had  been 
obliged  to  promise  that  he  would  take  Tingvold 
when  the  old  people  either  could  not  or  did  not 
wish  to  manage  it  longer,  and  when  the  ancient 
granJmotlier  was  dead.  During  this  whole 
visit,  however,  there  is  but  one  occurrence  that 
concerns  the  readers  of  this  story  ;  this  is,  that 
when  Randi,  after  having  been  affectionately 
received  and  after  partaking  of  the  refresh- 
Dients  that  were  brought  forward,  sat  with  hei 
daughter's  little  child  in  her  lap,  she  began  to 
rock  it  in  hei  arms  and  hum  something  over  it 


THE  BRIDAL  MARCH.  Ill 

and  that  was  the  bridal  march.  Her  daughter 
clasped  her  hands  in  surprise,  but  controlled 
herself  immediately,  and  said  nothing.  Hans 
invited  Endrid  to  let  him  fill  his  glass  again, 
which  Endrid  declined,  but  this  was  only  an 
excuse  on  both  sides  to  exchange  glances. 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 


INTRODUCTION  TO  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 


The  following  story  appeared  some  years  ago  in  a 
Danish  Christmas  Gift,  "  Fra  Fjaeld  og  Dal "  (From 
Mountain  and  Valley),  collected  by  Hr.  H.  J.  Green- 
Bteen.  In  German  the  work  has  already  passed 
through  two  editions,  and  many  have  requested  that 
it  might  be  published  in  a  separate  volume  in  our 
language  also. 

Certain  comments  in  the  criticism  of  the  public 
press  of  Denmark  and  Sweden  lead  me  to  make  the 
following  explanations  :  The  narrative  is  in  all  es- 
sentials historic  ;  above  all,  the  most  novel  of  its  in- 
cidents are  historic  —  some  of  them  even  to  their 
most  minute  details.  Captain  Mansana  is  drawn 
from  life  ;  what  he  is  said  to  have  performed,  he 
really  did  perform,  and  the  singular  destiny  ascribed 
to  him  is  historically  his  in  all  that  has  a  determin- 
ing influence  on  his  psychological  development. 

What  induced  me  to  make  this  presentation  of  his 
character  may  be  found  in  a  few  lines  of  Theresa's 
fetter,  which  concludes  this  story. 


10  INTRODUCTION. 

Compare  her  testimony  concerning  Mansana  with 
the  delineation  of  the  character  of  Lassalle,  published 
at  the  same  time  by  Dr.  Georg  Brandes  in  his 
"The  Nineteenth  Century,"  and  you  will  observe 
that  the  most  secret  impelling  forces  of  Lassalle's 
destiny  —  which  Brandes  has  depicted  with  so  mas- 
terly a  hand  —  are  the  same  as  those  which  con- 
trolled Mansana.  Lassalle's  rich  intellectual  powers, 
strong  individuality,  and  great  activity  are  naturally 
of  far  higher  interest ;  but  the  character-phenomenon 
is  the  same,  and  it  entertained  me,  in  its  day,  that  we 
should  both  have  had  our  attention  drawn  to  this  at 

the  same  time. 

BJORNSTJERNE  BJORNSON. 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA 


CHAPTER    I. 

As  I  waa  stepping  into  a  railway  car  at  Bo- 
logna, on  a  journey  to  Rome,  I  bought  some 
daily  papers.  Among  these  was  a  newspaper 
from  Florence,  containing  a  letter  from  Rome, 
that  soon  engrossed  my  undivided  attention,  for 
it  carried  me  back  thirteen  years  to  an  earlier 
visit  to  Rome  and  to  my  hosts  in  a  little  town 
in  the  vicinity  of  the  capital,  which  at  that 
time  belonged  to  the  Pope.  The  letter  an- 
nounced that  the  bones  of  the  patriot  Mansana, 
who  had  been  buried  in  the  malefactors'  grave- 
yard at  Rome,  had  now,  in  response  to  a  peti- 
tion from  his  native  town,  been  disinterred,  and 
would,  in  the  course  of  a  few  days,  be  received 
by  the  authorities  of  that  town,  and  attended 
by  delegates  from  various  societies  of  Rome  and 
the  adjacent  towns  to  A ,  Mansana's  birth- 
place.    A  monument  and  solemn  festal  recep- 


12  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

tion  awaited  them  there  ;  the  martyr  was  to 
have  accorded  him  a  tardy  recompense. 

Now  I  had  lodged  in  this  Mansana's  house 
thirteen  years  previous  to  this ;  liis  wife  and 
his  younger  brother's  wife  were  my  hostesses ; 
of  the  brothers  themselves,  the  elder  was  a 
captive  in  Rome,  the  younger  an  exile  in  Genoa. 

The  letter,  furthermore,  depicted  the  career 
of  the  elder  Mansana.  With  the  exception  of 
the  last  portion,  I  knew  it  before,  and  that  was 
just  what  increased  my  desire  to  join  tlie  pro- 
cession which  on  the  following  Sunday  was  to 
start  from  the  Piazza  Barberini  in  Rome  and 
end  at  A . 

And  so  on  Sunday  morning,  at  seven  o'clock, 
one  gray  October  day,  I  found  myself  at  the 
appointed  place.  There  were  gathered  together 
a  multiplicity  of  banners,  accompanied  by  those 
men,  as  a  rule  six,  which  each  society  had  se- 
lected for  the  purpose.  My  eyes  were  fixed  on 
a  banner  bearing  the  inscription,  "  The  Strug- 
gle for  the  Fatherland,"  and  to  the  accompany- 
ing forms,  in  red  shirts,  with  sashes  about  their 
waists,  cloaks  thrown  over  their  shoulders,  pan- 
taloons thrust  into  their  boot-tops,  and  broad 
hats,  with  floating  plumes.  What  counte- 
nances !  What  wills  !  Those  who  have  seen 
the   usual   portrait  of    Orsini  —  he   who  threw 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  13 

bombs  at  Napoleon  the  Third  —  well  know  the 
Italian  type  of  countenance  belonging  to  the 
men  who  rose  in  their  might  against  the  tyranny 
of  state  and  church,  defying  prisons  and  places 
of  execution,  banding  together  in  formidable 
associations,  progenitors  of  the  army  that  freed 
Italy.  Napoleon  had  been  a  member  of  such 
a  society.  He,  as  well  as  the  rest  of  his  com- 
rades, had  sworn  that  he  would  use  whatever 
position  he  might  attain  for  Italy's  unity  and 
welfare,  or,  in  the  opposite  case,  would  forfeit 
his  life.  Now  when  Napoleon  became  Emperor 
of  France,  it  was  the  Carbonari  comrade  Orsini 
who  reminded  him  of  his  oath.  It  was  done  in 
such  a  way,  too,  that  Napoleon  knew  what  he 
had  to  expect  if  he  failed  to  keep  it. 

The  impression  Orsini's  portrait  made  on  me 
the  first  time  I  saw  it  was  that  ten  thousand 
such  men  might  conquer  the  world.  And  here 
I  was  in  the  presence  of  some  of  these  men  who 
were  endowed  by  the  same  public  need  with  the 
same  will.  There  had  fallen  a  certain  repose 
over  the  wills  now  ;  but  something  dark  about 
the  eyes  told  that  it  was  not  that  of  peace. 
The  medals  on  their  breasts  showed  that  they 
had  been  present  at  Porte  San  Pancrazio  in  1849 
when  Garibaldi  twice  repulsed  superior  num 
bers  of  Frenchmen ;  in  1858,  at  Lake  Guarda 


14  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

and  in  1859,  in  Sicily  and  at  Naples.  A.nd  what 
the  medals  did  not  relate,  also  belonged,  in  all 
likelihood,  to  the  history  of  their  lives,  namely, 
that  they  had  fought  at  Mentana.  It  is  just 
Buch  battle-fields  as  the  latter,  unrecognized  by 
the  government,  that  are  most  deeply  branded 
into  the  souls  of  the  people.  Napoleon  was 
made  to  feel  this  after  he  had  secured  the  aid 
of  Italy  against  Germany  ;  it  was  Mentana  that 
forbade  the  king  and  the  government  to  redeem 
their  pledge  :  to  have  done  so  would  have  cost 
a  crown. 

The  contrast  between  the  dark,  appalling 
will  of  the  Italian  people  and  their  mocking 
levity  or  absolute  indifference,  is  quite  as  great 
as  the  contrast  between  these  men  of  Orsini- 
like  will  whom  I  here  saw  and  the  frivolous 
countenances,  expressing  either  refined  scorn 
or  total  apathy,  among  the  surrounding  spec- 
tators, as  well  as  among  the  representatives  who 
accompanied  the  banners,  bearing  such  inscrip- 
tions as  "  The  Press,"  "  Free  Thought,"  "  Free 
Labor,"  etc.,  etc.  Involuntarily  I  thought :  it 
is  the  levity  of  one  half  that  forces  the  will  of 
the  other  half.  So  great,  so  universal,  had 
been  this  levity,  that  great  in  proportion,  dark 
in  proportion  must  be  the  will  when  roused. 
A.nd  there  ran  through  my  mind  the  history  of 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  16 

Italy  in  her  reckless  frivolity  and  in  the  decrees 
of  her  will.  I  passed  back  and  forth  from  Bru- 
tus to  Orsini,  from  Catilina  to  Cesare  Borgia, 
from  Lucullus  to  Leo  the  Tenth,  from  Savo- 
narola to  Garibaldi,  while  the  multitude  was  set 
in  motion,  banners  floated,  heralds  proclaimed 
aloud  the  history  of  Mansana  from  the  pages 
and  small  pamphlets  they  held  in  their  hands, 
and  the  cortege  turned  into  Via  Felice.  Si- 
lence reigned :  the  lofty  houses  had  but  few  spec- 
tators thus  early  in  the  morning,  still  fewer 
when  the  procession  wound  its  way  into  Via 
Venti-Settembre,  past  the  Quirinal ;  but  the 
numbers  increased  as  it  descended  to  the  Foro 
Romano  and  moved  past  the  Coliseum  to  the 
Porta  Giovanni.  Outside  of  this  the  hearse 
waited.  It  had  been  provided  by  the  munici- 
pal authorities ;  servants  of  the  law  drove  it. 
Without  delay  it  set  forth.  Behind  the  hearse 
walked  two  young  men,  one  in  civilian's  dress, 
the  other  wearing  the  uniform  of  a  Bersaglieri 
oflBcer.  Both  were  tall,  spare,  muscular,  with 
small  heads  and  low  brows  ;  both  alike  in  form 
and  in  face,  and  yet  so  infinitely  different. 
They  were  the  sons  of  the  deceased. 

I  remembered  them  as  boys  of  thirteen  or 
fourteen,  and  the  circumstance  to  which  my 
recollections  of  them  clung  was  curious  enough 


16  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

I  remembered  their  father's  aged  mother  throw- 
ing stones  after  them,  and  the  boys  standing  at 
a  distance  laughing  derisively  at  her.  Sud- 
denly I  recalled  with  the  utmost  distinctness 
her  strong,  wrathful  eye,  her  sinewy,  but  wrin- 
kled hands.  I  could  see  her  gray  hair,  bristling 
about  the  coffee-colored  face  ;  and  now  as  I 
looked  at  these  boys  I  could  almost  have  said 
that  the  stones  she  threw  had  not  missed  their 
mark  and  had  become  a  part  of  them. 

How  their  grandmother  hated  them  !  Had 
they  given  her  special  cause  for  this  ?  That 
they  had  ;  for  hate  begets  hate,  and  war  war. 
But  at  the  outset  ?  Yes  ;  I  was  not  with  them 
at  the  time ;  but  it  is  not  difficult  to  divine. 

She  had  been  early  left  a  widow,  this  old 
woman,  and  in  her  strong,  young  beauty  she 
turned  the  good  graces  and  sympathy  of  the 
people  into  a  source  of  income  for  herself  and 
her  two  sons,  one  of  whom  now  lay  in  the  coffin  ; 
the  only  beings  she  loved,  and  that  with  so  "fu- 
rious "  a  love  that  it  wearied  her  sons.  When 
they  saw  the  wiles  she  employed  in  availing 
herself  of  her  privileges  as  a  pretty  widow,  to 
obtain  benefits  for  her  boys,  they  despised  these 
benefits  also.  Once  turned  from  her,  they  cast 
their  affections  on  ideal  things,  such  as  Italy's 
freedom,  Italy's  unity,  just  as  they  had  been 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  17 

taught  by  ardent  young  comrades :  their  moth- 
er's "  frenzied  "  limitations  in  regard  to  what 
was  her  own,  made  them  daily  more  enthusias- 
tic to  sacrifice  everything  for  the  common  good. 
They  were  not  merely  as  strong  as  she  :  they 
were  stronger. 

There  arose  sharp  struggles  in  which  she 
succumbed  ;  yet  not  entirely  before  their  con- 
nections with  secret  societies  had  procured  for 
them  associations  which  extended  far  beyond 
their  native  town  and  the  social  circle  to  which 
her  family  belonged.  Moreover,  they  each 
brought  home  a  bride  from  a  more  distin- 
guished house  than  their  mother's,  with  an 
outfit  larger  than  hers  had  been,  and  with  a 
dower  which  she  could  not  but  call  handsome. 
Then  she  was  silenced  for  a  time  ;  it  seemed  to 
her  that,  after  all,  this  being  a  patriot  was  not 
without  its  advantages. 

But  the  time  came  when  both  sons  had  to 
flee  ;  when  the  elder  one  was  captured  and  cast 
into  prison  ;  when  the  most  monstrous  public 
extortions  began  ;  when  unjust  officials  singled 
out  defenseless  widows  as  their  prey.  The 
time  came  when  their  house  had  to  be  mort- 
gaged ;  then  their  first  vineyard ;  finally  their 
second.  Aye,  the  time  came  when  the  first 
vineyard  was  seized  by  the  mortgage  holder 

9 


18  CAPTAIN   MANS  ANA. 

And  the  time  came  when  the  two  aristocratic 
wives,  who  had  been  friends  from  childhood, 
went  out  to  service  in  the  field,  in  the  vine- 
yard, and  in  houses  ;  when  they  had  to  take 
lodgers  and  wait  upon  them  ;  and  for  all  this 
they  were  rewarded  with  words  of  derision,  — 
not  only  by  the  clerical  party,  who  under  the 
papal  dominion  were  the  absolute  rulers  of  the 
city,  but  by  others ;  for  they  were  in  the  mi- 
nority who  honored  wives  for  the  sacrifices  their 
husbands  had  made,  and  who  united  with  them 
in  hoping  for  freedom,  enlightenment,  and  jus- 
tice. Now  the  old  woman  had  won  !  But  how  ? 
So  that  she  wept  over  her  rejected  love,  her  de- 
spised counsel,  her  lost  property ;  and  rising  up 
she  cursed  the  sons  who  had  forsaken  and  ruined 
her,  until  a  single  glance  —  no  word  was  ever 
spoken  —  from  the  eldest  daughter-in-law  drove 
her  back  again  to  the  hearth  where  she  was  in 
the  habit  of  sitting,  and  where  she  passed  her 
time  in  idleness  when  such  spells  came  over  her. 
Before  very  long  she  would  leave  the  house,  and 
if  she  met  her  grandsons,  beneath  whose  low 
brows  she  unluckily  thought  she  saw  the  bright 
gleam  she  had  first  adored,  then  feared  in  her 
own  sons,  she  would  draw  them  passionately  to 
her,  warn  them  against  the  ways  of  their  fath- 
ers, grossly  abuse   the   rabble,  who  were   un- 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  19 

worthy  of  the  sacrifice  of  a  penny,  to  say  noth- 
ing of  that  of  welfare,  family,  freedom  ;  and 
then  she  would  curse  her  sons,  the  boys'  fath- 
ers ;  they  were  the  noblest,  but  at  the  same 
time  the  most  ungrateful  and  most  foolish  sons 
that  ever  mother  in  that  town  had  given  birth 
to  !  And  the  unhappy  woman  would  shake  the 
boys  from  her,  crying,  — 

"Do  be  more  reasonable,  you  worthless 
scamps  !  Why,  you  are  standing  there  laugh- 
ing !  Be  not  like  your  stupid  mothers  in  there, 
for  they  doted  on  the  folly  of  my  boys,  —  verily, 
I  am  surrounded  by  lunatics  !  " 

And  she  would  push  her  grandsons  away  and 
weep,  draw  herself  up,  and  then  retreat.  In 
after  years  neither  she  nor  the  boys  used  much 
ceremony  in  their  dealings  with  one  another. 
They  laughed  at  her  when  she  had  one  of  her 
attacks,  and  she  flung  stones  at  them  ;  and  at 
last  matters  came  to  such  a  pass  that  if  she 
merely  chanced  to  be  sitting  alone,  the  boys 
would  say,  "  Grandmother,  have  you  gone  mad 
again  ?  "  and  then  the  stones  would  fly. 

But  why  did  not  the  old  woman  dare  speak 
in  the  presence  of  her  daughter-in-law?  For 
the  same  reason  that  she  yielded  in  the  pres- 
3nce  of  her  sons  in  days  of  yore.  Her  husband 
had  been  a  sickly  man,  in  no  condition  to  man- 


20  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

age  his  property ;  he  had  chosen  her  as  the 
complement  of  himself.  To  be  sure,  she  raised 
the  property  but  she  lowered  him.  He  had  a 
refined  smile,  varied  culture,  and  lofty  aspira- 
tions, and  he  suffered  in  her  society.  His  no- 
bler nature  she  could  not  destroy,  —  only  his 
peace  of  mind  and  his  health.  And  so  it  hap- 
pened that  the  beauty  of  character  she  had  de- 
spised while  he  lived,  gained  the  ascendency 
over  her  after  his  death.  And  when  it  reap- 
peared as  an  inspiration  in  her  sons,  and  as  a 
reproachful  reminder  in  the  pure  eyes  of  her 
daughter-in-law,  she  was  conquered  completely. 

I  say  the  grandmother's  stones  had  not  missed 
their  mark,  and  were  lodged  in  her  grandsons. 
Look  at  those  two  men  marching  there  !  The 
youngest,  the  one  in  civilian's  dress,  had  a 
smile  about  his  rather  thin  lips,  a  smile,  too,  in 
his  small  eyes  ;  but  I  do  not  believe  it  would 
have  been  well  to  irritate  him.  He  had  been 
helped  on  in  the  world  by  his  father's  political 
friends,  had  early  learned  to  bow  and  offer 
thanks,  —  I  think  not,  however,  through  grati- 
tude. 

But  look  at  the  elder !  The  same  small  head, 
the  same  low  brow,  yet  both  broader.  No 
smile  about  either  lips  or  eyes.  I  did  not  even 
wish  to  see  him  smile.     Tall  and  slim  like  his 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  21 

brother,  he  was  even  more  bony ;  and  while 
both  men  gave  the  impression  of  gymnastic 
strength,  and  looked  as  if  they  were  quite  able 
to  leap  over  the  hearse,  the  elder  one  gave  the 
additional  impression  of  literally  desiring  to  do 
so  ;  for  the  half  lounging  gait  of  the  brothers, 
the  evident  result  of  unused  powers,  had  be- 
come in  the  elder  an  impatient  elasticity,  —  he 
seemed  to  walk  on  springs.  His  thoughts  were 
apparently  absent,  for  his  eyes  wandered  far 
beyond  all  surrounding  objects ;  and  when  later 
I  offered  him  my  card  and  reminded  him  of  our 
former  acquaintance,  I  had  proof  that  this  was 
really  the  case. 

I  conversed  with  several  persons  in  the  pro- 
cession who  were  from  the  patriot's  town.  I 
inquired  after  grandmother  Mansana.  There 
was  a  general  smile,  and  several  at  the  same 
time  eagerly  told  me  that  she  had  lived  until 
tlie  previous  year :  she  had  reached  the  age 
of  ninety-five.  I  perceived  that  she  was  under- 
stood. It  was  told  me  with  equal  zeal  that  be- 
fore her  death  she  had  experienced  the  satisfac- 
tion of  seeing  her  home  fully  her  own  again : 
the  one  vineyard  had  been  repurchased,  and 
both  were  free  from  debt,  as  were  also  the 
fields.  All  was  done  out  of  gratitude  to  the  pa- 
triot martyr,  whose  glory  was  now  on  all  lips 


22  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

it  had  become  the  pride  of  the  town  ;  his  life, 
and  that  of  his  brother  were,  in  fact,  its  sole 
contribution  to  the  work  of  deliverance. 

So  she  had  lived  to  see  all  this  ! 

And  I  inquired  after  the  wives  of  the  two 
martyrs,  and  learned  that  the  younger  one  had 
succumbed  under  her  calamities,  especially  her 
grief  at  the  loss  of  her  only  daughter.  But  the 
wife  of  the  elder  Mansana,  the  mother  of  the 
two  young  men,  was  living.  The  faces  of  the 
narrators  became  grave,  their  voices  hushed, 
the  conversation  was  ere  long  conducted  by  one 
individual,  with  occasional  additional  remarks 
by  the  others,  all  with  a  certain  slow  solemnity. 
She  had  evidently  acquired  power  over  them, 
this  pure  woman,  with  her  grand  soul.  I  heard 
how  she  had  put  herself  in  communication  with 
her  husband  while  he  was  yet  in  prison,  had 
informed  him  that  Garibaldi  had  instigated  a 
revolt  within  the  town  and  an  attack  from 
without,  and  that  the  people  were  waiting  for 
Mansana  to  be  free ;  he  was  to  be  the  leader  of 
the  work  in  Rome.  And  he  became  free  I  He 
owed  this  to  his  own  rare  strength  of  will  and 
to  his  wife's  wise  fidelity.  He  feigned  insanity, 
that  was  her  counsel;  he  shrieked  until  his 
voice  was  gone,  then  until  his  strength  was  ex- 
hausted ;  for  in  the  mean  time  he  had  not  taken 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  23 

a  mouthful  either  of  food  or  of  drink.  Almost 
at  death's  door,  he  persevered  in  this  course, 
until  he  was  transferred  to  an  insane  hospital. 
His  wife  could  visit  him  there,  and  from  there 
they  fled  —  not  out  of  the  city  ;  no,  the  great 
preparations  demanded  his  presence,  and  she 
first  waited  upon  him,  afterwards  shared  his 
hazardous  undertaking.  Who  else  in  his  place, 
after  so  long  an  imprisonment,  would  not  have 
sought  freedom's  soil,  when  it  was  but  two  or 
three  miles  distant  ?  But  one  of  those  for  whom 
he  risked  life  and  all  that  was  his,  betrayed  him ; 
he  was  again  taken  captive,  and  without  him  a 
large  part  of  the  plan  became  fruitless  :  that  is 
to  say,  it  resulted  in  defeat  on  the  frontiers  ;  in 
the  conviction,  imprisonment  or  death  of  thou- 
sands in  the  capital  and  in  the  provinces.  Be- 
fore the  clock  struck  the  hour  of  freedom,  he 
had  been  beheaded  and  buried  amongst  his  dead 
fellow-prisoners,  thieves  and  murderers,  in  the 
great  malefactors'  burying  ground  of  the  capi- 
tal —  from  which  to-day  his  bones  had  been 
disinterred. 

Now  the  widow,  enveloped  in  a  long  black 
veil,  stood  waiting  for  him  at  the  head  of  the 
multitude  in  the  flag-adorned  church-yard  of 
nis  native  town,  beside  the  already  completed 
monument.      That   same   day,  after   the   new 


24  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

burial,  it  was  to  be  unveiled  amid  the  thun- 
der of  cannon,  to  which  a  festal  illumination  on 
the  mountains,  later  in  the  evening,  was  to  give 
response. 

Our  way  led  over  the  yellow  gray  Cam 
pagna  up  towards  the  mountains  ;  we  advanced 
from  one  mountain  town  to  another,  and  every- 
where there  extended,  as  far  as  the  eye  could 
reach,  a  human  throng,  with  uncovered  heads. 
The  peasantry  from  the  neighboring  towns  had 
assembled  in  haste ;  choruses  of  music  rang 
through  the  narrow  streets,  streamers  and  flags 
hung  from  every  window,  garlands  fell,  flowers 
were  strewed  about,  handkerchiefs  waved,  and 
tears  glistened.  We  soon  arrived  at  Mansana's 
native  town,  where  the  reception  was  still  more 
affecting,  and  whither  no  insignificant  portion 
of  the  large  masses  from  the  other  towns  had 
followed  us.  But  the  crowd  was  greatest  at  the 
church-yard. 

I,  however,  as  a  stranger,  was  favored,  and 
had  assigned  to  me  a  place  not  far  from  the 
widow.  Many  wept  at  sight  of  her,  but  she 
kept  her  quiet  gaze  fixed  unmovedly  on  the 
coffin,  the  flowers,  the  multitude.  She  did  not 
weep  ;  for  the  whole  of  this  combined  could  not 
restore  to  her  him  whom  she  had  lost,  nor  did 
it  invest  him  with  increased  honor  in  her  eyes 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  25 

She  looked  upon  it  all  as  upon  something  that 
had  been  known  to  her  for  years  before  this 
day.  How  beautiful  she  was !  By  this  remark 
I  do  not  mean  to  refer  only  to  the  noble  lines 
which  could  never  be  wholly  obliterated  in  a 
face  or  in  eyes  which  had  once  been  the  most 
beautiful  in  the  town,  indeed  were  still  so  when 
I  saw  her  thirteen  years  before  this,  although 
even  then  she  showed  traces  of  having  wept  too 
much.  No,  I  refer  also  to  the  actual  halo  of 
truth  that  surrounded  her  form,  movements, 
countenance,  gaze.  It  made  itself  manifest  in 
the  same  way  as  the  light,  and  like  this  it  trans- 
figured whatever  it  fell  upon. 

I  shall  never  forget  the  meeting  between  her 
and  her  sons.  They  both  embraced  and  kissed 
her ;  she  held  them  each  in  turn  long  in  her 
arms,  as  though  she  were  praying  over  them. 
A  hush  fell  over  all,  some  involuntarily  re- 
moved their  hats.  The  younger  son,  whom 
she  first  embraced,  drew  back,  with  his  hand- 
kerchief to  his  eyes.  The  elder  stood  still,  for 
she  looked  at  him  —  aye,  looked  at  him  ;  every 
eye  was  turned  on  him,  and  he  colored  deeply. 
There  was  unspeakable  pain  in  that  look,  an 
unfathomable  prophecy.  How  often  I  have 
since  recalled  it !  With  his  face  dyed  crimson, 
tie  firmly  returned  her  gaze,  and  she  looked 


26  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

away  that  she  might  not  goad  him  to  defiance. 
It  was  quite  apparent  that  this  was  so.  The 
tendencies  of  the  two  families  stood  face  to 
face. 


CHAPTER    n. 


On  the  way  back,  it  was  not  the  touching 
revelation  of  the  mother  that  was  most  prom- 
inent in  all  I  had  experienced,  it  was  the  Ber> 
saglieri  officer's  defiant  countenance,  his  tall, 
bony  form,  and  athletic  bearing.  And  thus  it 
was  that  I  could  not  help  inquiring  about  him. 
To  my  surprise,  I  found  that  it  was  the  daring 
exploits  of  this  son  that  had  again  drawn  atten- 
tion to  the  father,  and  called  forth  the  honor 
so  late  accorded  to  his  memory.  I  had  fallen 
upon  something  genuinely  Italian.  Concerning 
father,  mother,  speeches,  reception,  beauties  of 
scenery  surrounding  the  last  solemnities  at  the 
church-yard,  torchlights  in  the  mountains,  — 
of  all  these  things  not  a  word  was  spoken  I 
Until  we  parted  in  Rome,  we  were  entertained 
with  anecdotes  about  the  Bersaglieri  officer. 

When  yet  a  boy  he  had  been  with  Garibaldi 
and  had  won  favor  to  such  a  degree  that  later 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  27 

he  was  kept  at  a  military  school  by  his  own  and 
his  father's  friends. 

A  command  was  intrusted  to  him,  as  to  so 
many  Italians  in  those  days,  before  the  final 
examination  was  passed,  and  soon  he  had  so  dis- 
tinguished himself  that  he  received  a  perma- 
nent appointment.  One  solitary  deed  bore  his 
name  over  Italy,  even  before  he  had  been  in  a 
battle.  He  was  one  of  a  reconnoitring  party  ; 
and  having  wound  his  way  by  chance  and  alone 
up  to  the  top  of  a  wooded  height,  he  espied,  in 
a  thicket  behind  it,  a  horse,  soon  another,  drew 
nearer,  saw  a  traveling  carriage,  came  still 
closer,  and  discovered  a  group  of  people,  a  lady 
and  two  servants  encamped  in  the  grass.  He 
prom])tly  recognized  them.  The  lady  had  the 
previous  day  come  driving  toward  the  van- 
guard, seeking  refuge  from  the  enemy,  of  whom 
she  declared  herself  afraid.  She  had  been  al- 
lowed to  pass  ;  and  now  she  had  returned  by 
another  route,  and  she  and  her  servants  were 
seeking  repose  in  this  spot.  The  horses  had  an 
ill-used  look  ;  they  had  been  driven  the  whole 
night,  and  that  so  hard  that  it  was  impossible 
to  progress  without  first  having  some  rest.  All 
this  Mansaua  read,  as  it  were,  at  a  glance. 

It  was  on  a  Sunday  morning ;  the  Italian 
troops  were  in  camp  ;  mass  had  just  been  read, 


28  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

and  they  were  at  breakfast  when  the  outposta 
saw  young  Mansana  commg  galloping  toward 
them  with  :i  lady  on  the  pommel  of  his  saddle 
and  two  unharnessed  horses  fastened  to  the  lat- 
ter. The  lady  was  a  spy  from  the  enemy's 
army  ;  her  "  two  servants,"  officers  of  the  hos- 
tile force,  lay  wounded  in  the  woods.  The  lady 
was  recognized  at  once,  and  Mansana's  "  Ev- 
viva  !  "  reechoed  by  thousands.  The  troops 
broke  up;  the  enemy  must  be  near  at  hand,  and 
it  was  soon  ascertained  that  this  Giuseppe  Man- 
sana's presence  of  mind  had  saved  the  vanguard 
from  falling  into  a  snare. 

I  shall  tell  many  anecdotes  about  him ;  but 
in  order  that  they  may  be  understood,  I  must 
begin  by  stating  that  he  was  the  first  gymnast 
and  fencer  in  the  army.  Both  now  and  later  I 
heard  bat  one  opinion  of  this. 

Immediately  after  the  war  he  was  in  garrison 
at  Florence.  One  day  it  was  told  at  an  officers' 
caf^  that  a  Belgian  officer,  who  a  few  weeks  be- 
fore had  been  stationed  there,  had  proved  to 
be  in  reality  a  papal  officer,  and  now  amused 
himself  among  liis  comrades  in  Rome  by  mak- 
ing sport  of  the  Italian  officers,  whom,  with  a 
few  exceptions,  he  pronounced  mere  ignorant 
parade  puppets,  whose  main  characteristic  waa 
childish  vanity.     This  story  excited  much  in 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  29 

digiiation  among  the  officers  of  the  garrison  in 
Florence,  and  from  the  caf^  where  he  had  heard 
it  young  Mansana  went  at  once  to  the  colonel 
and  asked  for  a  six  days'  furlough.  This  was 
granted  him.  He  went  home,  purchased  civil- 
ian's clothes,  and  without  delay  took  the  direct 
route  to  Rome.  By  the  way  of  the  forest  he 
crossed  the  frontier,  and  on  the  third  day  ap- 
peared in  the  officers'  cafe  in  Rome,  near  the 
Piazza  Colonna,  where  he  soon  saw  sitting  be- 
fore him  the  Belgian  papal  officer.  He  walked 
up  to  the  latter  and  quietly  bade  him  follow 
him  outside.  Here  Mansana  told  the  officer 
who  he  was,  bade  him  take  a  friend  and  ac- 
company him  beyond  the  gates,  to  give  satis- 
faction to  the  Italian  corps  of  officers  in  a  duel 
with  him.  So  frankly  and  completely  did  Man- 
sana trust  to  the  honor  of  this  man  that  the 
latter  could  not  fail  him.  He  immediately  went 
in  after  a  friend,  and  three  hours  later  was  a 
corpse.  But  young  Mansana  set  out  forthwith 
on  his  return  route  through  the  forest  to  Flor- 
ence. Not  by  him  was  the  affair  made  known 
in  Florence,  where,  meanwhile,  he  had  re- 
mained, but  through  tidings  from  Rome,  and 
he  was  sentenced  to  a  long  imprisonment  for 
having  left  the  town  witUout  permission  and 
for  having  furthermore  been  in  another  coun- 


30  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

try  ;  but  the  officers  made  a  banquet  for  him 
when  he  was  free  and  the  king  honored  him 
with  a  decoration. 

Shortly  afterward  he  was  stationed  at  a  Sa- 
lerno garrison.  Smuggling  had  become  rife  on 
the  coast,  and  the  troops  were  aiding  in  putting 
a  stop  to  it.  In  civilian's  dress  he  went  out  to 
make  observations,  and  learned  at  an  inn  that 
a  ship  carrying  smuggled  goods  was  now  lying 
out  beyond  the  range  of  vision,  and  was  to  near 
the  coast  under  the  cover  of  night.  He  went 
home,  changed  his  clothes,  took  with  him  two 
chosen  men,  and  toward  evening  they  all  three 
rowed  out  in  a  frail  little  boat.  I  heard  this  an- 
ecdote told  and  confirmed  on  the  spot.  I  have 
heard  it  since  from  others  ;  and  later  had  the 
opportunity  of  reading  it  in  the  newspapers ; 
but  nevertheless  it  always  remains  incompre- 
hensible to  me,  how  in  boarding  a  vessel  with 
his  two  followers  he  could  compel  sixteen  — 
sixteen  -—  men  to  obedience,  as  he  did,  and 
bri  ng  the  ship  to  the  wharf  ! 

After  the  capture  of  Rome,  in  which  he  also 
took  part,  and  where  he  worked  miracles,  es- 
pecially during  the  inundation  which  followed, 
he  was  sitting  one  evening  in  the  same  officers' 
caf^,  in  front  of  which  he  had  challenged  the 
Belgian   papal   officer.     He  there   heard  som« 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  31 

brother  officers  who  had  just  come  from  a  social 
gathering,  telling  about  a  Hungarian  who  had 
drank  too  much  Italian  wine,  and  under  its  in- 
spiring influence  had  fallen  to  boasting  about 
the  Hungarians,  to  such  an  extent  that,  after 
some  slight  opposition,  he  had  even  gone  so  far 
as  to  assert  that  three  Italians  would  be  wel- 
come to  attack  one  Hungarian  !  All  the  offi 
cers  laughed  with  those  who  were  telling  this, 
all  with  the  exception  of  Giuseppe  Mansana. 

"  Where  does  this  Hungarian  lodge  ?  "  asked 
he. 

His  tone  was  one  of  utter  indifference  ;  he 
neither  looked  up  nor  removed  the  cigarette 
from  his  mouth.  The  Hungarian  had  been 
followed  home,  so  the  desired  information  was 
at  once  given.     Mansana  rose. 

"  Are  you  going  ?  "  asked  they. 

"  To  be  sure,"  he  replied. 

"  But  surely  not  to  the  Hungarian  ?  "  some 
one  inquired,  good-naturedly. 

Now  there  was  nothing  good-natured  about 
Giuseppe  Mansana. 

"  Where  else  ?  "  cried  he,  and  strode  away. 

The  rest  rose  at  once  to  accompany  him. 
They  endeavored  on  the  way  to  make  him  sen- 
sible of  the  fact  that  a  drunken  man  could  not 
be  called  to  account. 


S2  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

"  Do  not  be  alarmed,"  was  Mansana  s  re- 
sponse, "  I  shall  treat  him  accordingly." 

The  Hungarian  lodged  on  the  primo  piano ^ 
as  the  Italians  say,  that  is,  on  the  second  floor, 
of  a  large  building  in  Fratina.  In  front  of  the 
windows  of  the  first  floor  (parterre),  in  every 
Italian  town,  there  are  iron  bars,  and  these 
Giuseppe  Mansana  grasped,  swung  himself  up, 
and  soon  stood  on  the  balcony  outside  of  tho 
Hungarian's  chamber.  He  broke  in  the  panes 
of  the  balcony  window,  opened  it  and  disap- 
peared. There  was  a  light  struck  within  — 
this  his  comrades  who  stood  below  saw.  What 
else  transpired  they  could  not  ascertain  ;  they 
heard  no  noise,  and  Mansana  has  never  told 
them.  But  after  the  lapse  of  a  few  minutes 
he  and  the  Hungarian,  the  latter  in  his  shirt, 
came  out  on  the  balcony,  whereupon  the  Hun- 
garian declared,  in  good  French,  that  he  had 
been  drunk  that  evening,  and  begged  pardon 
for  what  he  had  said ;  of  course  an  Italian  was 
just  as  good  as  a  Hungarian.  Mansana  came 
down  again  the  same  way  he  had  gone  up. 

Greater  and  lesser  anecdotes  from  war  times, 
from  garrison  and  social  life  (among  these  some 
stories  of  racing  which  testified  of  an  endurance 
in  running  I  have  never  heard  equaled),  fell 
like  hail  upon  us ;  but  all  that  was  told  presents, 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  33 

it  seems  to  me,  the  picture  of  a  man  whose 
presence  of  mind,  courage,  love  of  honor,  whose 
physical  strength  and  energy,  dexterity  and 
shrewdness,  rouse  to  the  highest  pitch  our  ex- 
pectations as  to  his  future  possibilities,  but  at 
the  same  time  fill  us  with  solicitude. 

How  Giuseppe  Mansana  came  the  following 
winter  and  spring  to  engross  the  attention  of 
thousands,  and  among  them  the  author  of  this 
volume,  will  appear  in  the  story  itself. 


CHAPTER  ni. 


When  Giuseppe  Mansana  followed  his  fa- 
ther's bones  to  their  honored  grave,  looking  as 
though  he  would  like  to  leap  over  the  hearse, 
he  was  —  it  soon  became  manifest  —  under  the 
influence  of  a  first  passionate  love.  That  same 
evening  he  took  the  railway  train  for  Ancona, 
where  his  regiment  was  stationed.  It  was  there 
she  lived,  the  mere  sight  of  whom  had  power 
to  subdue  the  flames  which  burned  with  such 
consuming  force. 

He  was  in  love  with  one  who  had  his  nature, 
one  who  must  be  conquered,  one  who  had  taken 
3 


84  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

captive  hundreds  ■without  being  herself  cap- 
tured, one  of  whom  an  enamored  Ancona  bard 
had  sung — 

Thou  dusky  devil,  I  do  love  thee, 
Tliy  smile  of  fire,  thy  blood  of  wine, 
And  think  it  is  the  glow  of  evil 
Makes  beauty  in  thy  courage  shine. 
Nay,  think,  the  play  which  never  ceases 
Of  lustre  in  your  face  and  eyes 
Is  Satan's  unrest  in  your  nature, 
Your  winning  laughter  his  outvies. 
I  think  so,  fair  one  !  — but  much  rather 
I  thee  would  love  'mid  death  and  tears, 
Than  fall  asleep  in  arms  that  carry 
Me  to  the  grave  for  fifty  years. 
Yea,  rather,  much  the  queen  of  living 
In  majesty  that  ends  no  more. 
E'en  though  I  sink  before  the  riddle, 
Than  follow  what  I  know  oefore. 

She  was  the  daughter  of  an  Austrian  general 
and  a  lady  who  belonged  to  one  of  the  oldest 
families  in  Ancona.  It  caused  much  indigna- 
tion in  its  day  that  a  woman  of  her  rank  should 
marry  the  commander  of  the  detested  foreign 
garrison. 

The  indignation  was,  if  possible,  increased 
by  the  fact  that  he  was  almost  an  old  man, 
while  she  was  but  eighteen  years  of  age  and 
very  beautiful.  But  the  general's  immense  fort- 
une might  have  tempted  her ;  for  she  lived  in 
her  splendid  palace  in  actual  poverty,  —  a 
matter  of    common  occurrence  in  Italy.     The 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  35 

fact  is,  the  lamily  palace  is  usually  entailed 
property  which  the  occupant  is  often  unable  to 
keep  in  repair.  This  was  very  nearly  the  case 
in  the  present  instance.  There  might,  how- 
ever, have  been  some  other  attraction  besides 
the  general's  wealth,  for  when,  shortly  after 
their  daughter's  birth,  he  died,  the  widow  passed 
her  period  of  mourning  in  absolute  retirement. 
The  church  and  the  priest  alone  saw  her. 
Friends,  with  whom  she  had  broken  at  the  time 
of  her  marriage,  yet  who  now  put  themselves 
to  all  sorts  of  trouble  in  their  efforts  to  again 
approach  the  enormously  wealthy  widow,  she 
fled  from. 

Ancona,  meanwhile,  became  Italian,  and 
from  the  festivals,  illuminations,  and  rejoicings 
she  fled  still  farther,  namely,  to  Rome,  while 
her  palace  in  Ancona,  as  well  as  her  villa  by 
the  sea,  remained  closed  and  deserted  as  a 
mute  protest.  But  in  Rome,  Princess  Leaney 
discarded  the  black  veil,  without  which  no  one 
had  seen  her  since  her  husband's  death,  opened 
her  salon,  in  which  might  be  seen  all  the  high- 
est aristocracy  of  the  papal  dominion,  and  an- 
nually contributed  large  sums  to  the  Peter- 
pence  fund  and  other  papal  objects.  The  first 
as  well  as  the  last  increased  the  hatred  felt  for 
her  in  Ancona,  and  which  through  the  liberal 


86  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

party  was  also  transported  to  Rome ;  and 
even  on  Monte  Pincio,  when,  in  all  her  beauty 
and  splendor,  she  drove  out  with  her  little 
daughter,  she  could  detect  it  in  the  glances 
flashed  on  her  by  familiar  faces  from  Ancona 
and  unfamiliar  ones  from  Rome.  She  defied  it, 
and  not  only  regularly  made  her  appearance 
on  Monte  Pincio,  but  also  repaired  anew  to  An- 
cona when  summer  drove  her  away  from  Rome. 
Once  more  she  opened  her  Ancona  palace  and 
her  villa,  and  passed  most  of  the  time  in  the 
latter  place  in  order  to  avail  herself  of  the 
baths.  She  made  a  point  of  driving  through 
the  town  to  her  house  on  the  Corso  or  to  the 
church  vdthout  greeting  any  one  or  being 
greeted  in  return,  but  nevertheless  she  repeated 
the  trip  every  day.  When  her  daughter  grew 
larger,  she  allowed  her  to  take  part  in  the  ev- 
ening entertainments  of  plays  and  tableaux, 
which  the  priests  of  the  city,  under  the  pro- 
tection of  the  bishop,  got  up  for  the  benefit  ol 
the  Peter-pence  fund  in  Ancona  ;  and  so  great 
was  the  child's  beauty  and  the  mother's  attract- 
iveness that  many  attended  who  would  not 
otherwise  have  been  willing  to  go.  Thus  the 
daughter  learned  defiance  of  the  mother;  and 
when  at  fourteen  years  of  age  the  young  gin 
lost  her  mother,  she  persevered  in  it  on  her 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  37 

own  account,  and  with  such  additions  as  youth 
and  courage  involuntarily  supply. 

She  was  soon  more  talked  about  and  more 
severely  censured  than  her  mother  had  ever 
been,  inasmuch  as  her  renown  was  more  widely 
spread.  For  with  an  older  lady,  whom  she  took 
as  a  companion,  a  dignified,  elegant  person, 
who  saw  everything  but  spoke  of  nothing,  she 
roamed  through  other  countries,  from  England 
to  Egypt,  so  planning  her  journeys,  however, 
that  she  always  passed  her  summers  in  Ancona, 
her  autumns  in  Rome. 

The  last-named  city  became  Italian  finally, 
as  well  as  Ancona  ;  but  in  both  cities  she  con- 
tinued to  lead  what  might  be  called  a  challeng- 
ing life  in  the  face  of  those  who  7ioiv  ruled,  and 
who  sought  in  every  way  to  win  the  rich,  hand- 
some woman.  Indeed,  it  has  been  asserted  that 
young  noblemen  formed  alliances  to  conquer  or 
crush  her.  Be  this  true  or  not,  she  believed  it 
herself.  And  so  she  lured  into  her  presence 
those  whom  she  suspected,  only  to  repulse  them 
mercilessly.  She  first  made  them  mad  with 
hope,  then  with  disappointment.  She  drove  her 
horses  herself  through  the  Corso  and  on  Monte 
Pincio  ;  she  appeared  as  a  victor  on  a  triumphal 
progress,  with  those  she  had  vanquished  bound 
to   her   carriage  ;    not   everv  one,   to  be  sure, 


38  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

could  see  this,  but  she  saw  it  because  she  felt  it, 
and  her  victims  felt  it  too. 

She  would  have  been  slain,  or  even  worse,  had 
Bhe  not  had  too  many  worshipers,  who  in  spite 
of  everything  formed  a  body-guard  of  perpetual 
adoration  about  her.  To  these  belonged  the 
bard  before  mentioned. 

Above  all  else  she  became  the  secret  hope 
and  the  open  hatred  of  the  young  officers  of 
the  Ancona  garrison. 

Just  at  the  time  when  Giuseppe  Mansana 
had  been  removed  with  his  Bersagliers  to  An- 
cona, she  had  been  exercising  a  new  caprice  in 
that  place.  She  had  resolutely  refused  to  adorn 
the  company  that  assembled  of  evenings  on  the 
Corso,  in  order  to  promenade  up  and  down, 
by  the  light  of  the  moon,  stars,  and  gas,  the 
ladies  in  ball  costume,  holding  before  their 
faces  the  fans  they  can  use  with  such  wondrous 
effect,  the  gentlemen  swarming  around  in  fine 
new  summer  suits,  or  in  their  uniforms,  meet- 
ing friends  and  acquaintances,  laughing,  gath- 
ering together  about  tables,  where  groups  were 
already  seated  enjoying  ices  and  coffee,  then 
passing  from  these  to  others,  finally  to  drop 
down  at  one  themselves,  while  a  quartet,  or  a 
wandering  chorus,  with  cithern,  flute,  and  gui- 
tar  might    be    heard  —  Theresa   Leaney    re«« 


CAPTAIN  MANS  ANA.  39 

olutely  refused  to  contribute  to  the  splendor, 
the  curiosity,  the  enjoyment,  the  nobility  of 
these  daily  exhibitions  of  the  town;  on  the 
contrary,  she  had  chosen  to  be  the  cause  of  dis- 
turbance. 

At  sunset,  when  the  carriages  of  other  wealthy 
people  were  returning  home,  she  drove  out. 
With  two  unusually  small  ponies,  the  "  Corsi- 
cans,"  by  name,  which  she  had  that  summer 
purchased,  and,  as  was  her  wont,  herself  holding 
the  reins,  she  would  drive  through  the  town  in 
full  trot.  Then  when  the  Corso  was  lighted 
and  the  rendezvous  had  begun,  —  the  general 
rendezvous  between  families  and  friends,  the 
clandestine  one  between  young  maidens  and 
their  adorers,  the  silent  one  between  the  idler 
and  his  shadow,  the  sighing  one  between  the 
far-off  betrothed  lover  and  his  faithful  damsel 
here  present,  the  brief  one  between  the  officer 
and  his  creditor,  the  excessively  courteous  one 
between  the  official  and  him  whose  death  will 
give  him  a  higher  post,  —  just  as  the  young 
ladies  had  succeeded  in  twice  displaying  their 
new  Parisian  dresses,  that  is  to  say,  in  one  prom- 
enade up  and  one  down  the  street,  and  the  ad- 
miring store  clerks  had  passed  through  the  pre- 
liminaries, and  the  officers  had  formed  their  first 
fritical  group,  and  the  nobility  had  just  conde- 


40  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

scended  to  notice  attentions,  —  this  arrogant 
young  girl,  with  lier  rigid,  elderly  companion  at 
her  side,  would  come  dashing  full  speed  into 
the  midst  of  the  group.  The  two  little  ponies 
would  be  in  full  trot,  and  the  officers  and  young 
ladies,  the  nobilit}'  and  the  store  clerks,  family 
groups  and  whispering  couples,  must  part  in  the 
utmost  haste,  in  order  to  escape  being  run  over. 
A  row  of  bells  on  the  harness  of  the  ponies 
gave  due  warning,  it  was  true,  so  that  the  police 
could  say  nothing ;  but  all  the  more  did  those 
have  to  say  whom  she  had  insulted  twofold: 
first  by  her  absence,  and  then  by  her  presence. 

Two  evenings  Giuseppe  Mansana  had  been 
on  the  Corso,  and  both  times  had  come  near 
being  run  over.  He  never  before  conceived 
the  possibility  of  such  assurance.  He  learned, 
too,  who  she  was. 

The  third  evening,  when  Theresa  Leaney 
stopped  at  the  accustomed  place  outside  of  the 
town,  on  her  return  trip,  to  have  her  ponies 
watered  and  allow  them  to  rest  before  begin- 
ning their  trot  to  the  town  and  its  Corso,  a  tall 
man  stepped  forward  and  saluted  her.  He  was 
an  officer. 

"  I  take  the  liberty,"  said  he,  "  of  introducing 
myself.  J  am  Giuseppe  Mansana,  officer  of  the 
Bersagliers.     I  have  laid  a  wager  to  run  a  race 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  41 

with  your  little  ponies  from  here  to  town. 
Have  you  any  objections?" 

It  was  after  dusk,  so  that  under  ordinary 
circumstances  she  would  not  have  been  able  to 
see  him  ;  but  a  strong  excitement  will  some- 
times increase  our  powers  of  vision.  Astonish- 
ment, combined  with  a  trifling  degree  of  alarm 
—  for  there  was  something  in  the  voice  and 
bearing  that  startled  her  —  gave  her  courage  ; 
for  we  often  become  courageous  through  fear. 
And  so  tun  ling  toward  the  small  head  and 
short  face,  of  which  she  caught  a  faint  glimpse, 
she  said,  — 

"  It  occurs  to  me  that  a  gentleman  would  have 
asked  my  permission  before  entering  into  such 
a  wager;  but  an  Italian  officer  "  — 

She  did  not  continue,  for  she"  grew  frightened 
herself  at  what  she  was  saying,  and  there 
arose  an  ominous  silence,  during  which  her  un- 
easiness increased.  At  last,  she  heard  from  a 
voice  whose  tones  were  more  hollow  than 
ever  (Mansana's  voice  always  had  a  hollow 
sound),  — 

"  The  wager  is  entered  into  with  myself 
alone,  and,  to  speak  frankly,  I  propose  to  make 
the  attempt,  whether  you  consent  or  not." 

"What?"  exclaimed  she,  seizing  the  reins, 
but  at  the  same  moment  she  uttered  a  shriek 


42  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

and  her  companion  a  still  louder  one,  as  both 
came  near  falling  from  the  carriage ;  for  with 
a  long  whip  neither  of  them  had  until  now 
perceived  the  officer  gave  the  ponies  a  furious 
cut  across  the  backs,  so  that  with  a  plunge  they 
darted  forward.  Two  servants,  who  had  been 
sitting  behind,  and  who  had  started  to  their  feet 
at  a  sign  from  their  young  mistress  to  come 
to  her  aid,  were  thrown  to  the  ground.  Neither 
of  them  took  part  in  the  drive  that  now  began, 
and  that  was  not  so  long  as  it  was  rich  in  in- 
cidents. 

To  Giuseppe  Mansana's  acquirements  —  and 
possibly  it  was  the  most  practiced  of  these  — 
belonged,  as  indicated  before,  the  art  of  run- 
ning. The  little  ponies  were  not  so  hard  to 
keep  pace  with,  especially  at  the  outset,  when 
they  were  vigorously  held  back  and  were  there- 
fore not  quite  sure  whether  they  should  trot 
or  not.  Theresa,  in  her  wrath,  was  ready  to 
venture  everything  rather  than  tolerate  such 
humiliation.  She  was  determined,  therefore,  to 
give  her  servants  time  to  catch  up  to  her.  But 
just  as  she  was  about  to  succeed  in  bringing 
the  ponies  to  a  halt,  the  lash  fell  whizzing  on 
their  backs  and  forthwith  they  darted  off  again. 
She  said  not  a  word,  but  drew  in  the  reina 
again,  and  that  so  persistently  that  the  poniea 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  43 

were  about  to  halt  once  more ;  but  then  the 
whip  fell  anew,  and  again  and  yet  again.  And 
now  she  and  they  gave  it  up.  Her  elderly  com- 
panion, who  the  whole  time  had  shrieked  and 
clung  with  both  arms  to  Princess  Leaney's 
waist,  fell  into  a  swoon,  and  had  to  be  sup- 
ported. Anger  and  dismay  overwhelmed  The- 
resa ;  for  a  while  she  saw  neither  ponies  nor 
road,  and  at  last  she  did  not  so  much  as  know 
whether  she  held  the  reins.  She  had  indeed 
dropped  them  but  found  them  again  in  her  lap, 
and  made  a  second  trial,  holding  her  companion 
with  one  arm,  yet  at  the  same  time  managing  to 
grasp  the  reins  with  both  hands,  striving  with 
all  her  might  to  gain  control  of  the  terrified 
little  ponies.  She  soon  realized  the  impossibil- 
ity of  this.  It  was  dark ;  the  tall  poplars 
trotted  with  them  in  the  air  step  by  step,  above 
the  brushwood  that  grew  between  them.  Slie 
knew  not  where  she  was.  The  sole  object  she 
could  distinguish  besides  the  ponies  was  the  tall 
form  by  their  side,  that  like  a  spectre  towered 
above  them,  always  at  the  same  height  and  the 
same  distance.  Where  were  they  going  ?  And 
swift  as  lightning  it  flashed  through  her  mind : 
"Not  to  the  town;  he  is  no  officer,  he  is  a 
bandit ;  I  am  being  driven  away  from  the  road 
—  soon  others  will  ^oin  him  !  "     And  from  the 


44  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

depths  of  the  anguish  caused  by  this  sudden 
idea,  she  screamed,  — 

"  Stop,  for  Heaven's  sake  I  What  do  you 
want  ?     Do  you  not  see  "  — 

She  got  no  farther,  for  she  heard  a  whizzing 
sound  in  the  air,  the  whip  cracked  on  the  backs 
of  the  ponies,  and  harder  than  ever  the  little 
animals  dashed  onward. 

Swift  as  the  speed  of  the  ponies  was  the  flight 
of  her  thoughts.  "  What  does  he  want  ?  Who 
is  he  ?  One  of  those  whom  I  have  insulted  ?  " 
And  in  rapid  succession  the  ranks  of  these  passed 
in  review  before  her.  She  could  find  no  one 
whom  he  seemed  to  resemble.  But  the  thought 
of  vengeance  pursued  her  startled  conscience  ; 
it  might  indeed  be  one  whom  she  did  not  know, 
but  who  wanted  to  take  revenge  for  all  the  oth- 
ers. But  if  this  was  revenge,  she  had  yet  the 
worst  to  expect.  The  bells  cut  through  the  rat- 
tling of  the  carriage-wheels ;  the  short,  sharp 
sound  darted  about  her  like  shrieks  of  anguish, 
and,  roused  to  the  utmost  by  terror,  she  was 
ready  to  risk  a  leap  from  the  carriage.  But  no 
sooner  had  she  relaxed  her  hold  on  her  compan- 
ion than  the  latter  rolled  over  like  a  lifeless  ob- 
ject, and  in  greater  terror  than  ever  the  princess 
j^icked  her  up,  and  with  the  rigid  form  thrown 
Across  her  lap  sat  a  long  time  devoid  of  a  single 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  46 

clear  idea.  At  last,  as  the  road  made  a  sudden 
turn,  she  perceived  a  luminous  haze  over  the 
town.  She  felt  the  joy  of  deliverance,  but  only 
for  a  moment,  brief  as  a  glance,  for  the  next  in- 
stant she  comprehended  the  whole  :  he  was  an 
avenger  from  the  Corso  ! 

"  Oh,  no  farther  !  "  exclaimed  she,  even  before 
the  thought  was  fully  matured.     "  Oh,  no  !  " 

The  words  echoed  in  her  ears,  the  bells  leaped 
with  shrill  intonation  about  the  group,  the  pop- 
lars trotted  alongside,  but  that  was  all :  the 
race  went  on,  but  there  came  no  answer.  She 
saw  in  her  mind's  eye  her  pitiful  progress 
through  the  city,  lashed  forward  with  her  faint- 
ing companion  in  her  arms,  and  the  public  on 
either  side,  with  the  officers  foremost  applaud- 
ing and  jeering.  For  this  was  the  officers'  re- 
venge ;  she  was  sure  of  it  now.  She  bowed  her 
head  as  if  she  were  already  there.  Then  she 
felt  and  heard  that  the  ponies  were  slackening 
their  speed  ;  they  must  be  near  their  destina- 
tion ;  but  would  they  pause  before  they  got 
there  ?  Once  more,  with  a  sudden  hope,  she 
looked  up.  He  had  dropped  behind,  —  that  was 
the  cause  of  this  respite.  He  was  close  by  her 
side  ;  soon  she  heard  his  hasty,  labored  breath- 
ing, heard  finally  nothing  else,  until  all  her 
anxiety  became  centred  in  the  thought,  "  What 


46  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

if  he  should  fall  in  the  middle  of  the  Corso,  with 
blood  sti'eaming  from  his  lips  and  nostrils  !  " 
His  blood  would  then  be  on  her  head  ;  for  her 
challenging  defiance  bad  called  forth  his.  The 
people  would  spring  upon  her  and  tear  her  to 
pieces. 

"  Spare  yourself  !  "  she  begged.  "  I  will 
yield !  "  she  cried,  in  tones  of  agonized  en- 
treaty. 

But  as  though  startled  out  of  his  artful  ex- 
periment, he  made  one  final  effort,  and  in  two 
or  three  longer  strides  was  once  more  abreast 
with  the  ponies,  who  the  moment  they  became 
conscious  of  his  presence,  accelerated  their 
speed,  but  received,  nevertheless,  two  whizzing 
lash  strokes. 

Now  she  distinctly  saw  the  first  gas-lights 
near  the  Cavour  monument ;  soon  they  would 
turn  into  the  Corso  ;  the  play  was  about  to  be- 
gin. She  felt  an  unconquerable  desire  to  weep, 
and  yet  could  not  shed  a  tear,  and  then  she 
bowed  her  head  in  order  to  shut  out  all  further 
sight.  At  that  moment  she  heard  the  sound 
of  his  voice,  but  not  what  he  said  ;  the  carriage 
was  now  on  the  paving-stones,  and  besides,  he 
was  most  likely  unable  to  speak  distinctly.  She 
looked  up  again,  but  he  was  no  longer  visibla 
Great  God  !  had  he  fallen  to  the  ground  ?    Every 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  47 

drop  of  blood  stood  still  within  her  veins.  No  : 
there  he  was,  walking  slowly  away  from  the 
Corso,  past  the  Caf^  Garibaldi.  At  the  same 
moment  she  found  herself  in  the  Corso  ;  the 
horses  trotted,  the  people  cleared  the  way  ;  she 
bowed  her  head  still  lower  over  the  fainting 
companion  lying  across  her  lap ;  terror  and 
shame  were  chasing  after  them  with  the  lash. 

When  some  moments  later  she  came  to  a  halt 
in  the  palace  court-yard,  through  whose  open 
gate  the  ponies  had  rushed  full  speed,  so  that  it 
was  a  miracle  the  carriage  was  not  upset  or 
dashed  to  pieces,  —  she  too  fainted. 

An  old  servant  stood  awaiting  her  coming. 
He  called  for  help  ;  the  two  ladies  were  borne 
into  the  palace.  Shortly  afterward  the  men 
who  had  been  thrown  from  the  carriage  made 
their  appearance,  and  related  what  had  occurred, 
BO  far  as  they  knew  it.  The  old  servant  took 
them  soundly  to  task  for  their  awkwardness,  so 
that  they  actually  felt  ashamed  of  it  themselves 
and  all  the  more  readily  did  as  he  bade  them  : 
maintained  a  discreet  silence. 

The  ponies  had  run  away  just  as  the  serv- 
ants, after  a  short  rest,  were  about  mounting 
the  box.     That  was  all. 


48  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 


CHAPTER  IV. 


When  Princess  Theresa  Leaney  awoke  to 
consciousness  her  strengtli  seemed  wholly  ex- 
hausted. She  did  not  rise  from  her  couch,  she 
scarcely  ate  a  morsel ;  no  one  was  allowed  to 
remain  with  her. 

Her  companion  walked  noiselessly  through 
the  great  mirrored  hall  opposite  the  ante-room, 
and  noiselessly  back  again  when  she  had  fin- 
ished her  errands.  Just  as  noiselessly  she 
stepped  back  into  the  small  gothic  chamber 
occupied  by  the  princess.  The  servants  fol- 
lowed her  example.  Princess  Leaney's  com- 
panion had  been  brought  up  in  a  convent,  had 
come  forth  from  there  with  high  pretensions 
on  the  score  of  her  rank  and  her  acquirements, 
pretensions  she  maintained  for  ten  years  and 
then  for  five  more  —  constantly  outraged  by 
the  inelegance  and  greed  of  youth.  Finally 
she  obtained  in  an  aristocratic  family  a  posi- 
tion befitting  a  lady  of  rank,  still  silently  pre- 
serving her  feeling  of  injured  dignity  ;  but  as 
she  grew  older  she  submitted  to  one  thing  after 
(inother,  without,  however,  losing  her  sense  of 
affront ;  she  held  her  peace  about  everything 
and  devoted  all  her  energies  to  the  accumula^ 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  49 

tion  of  wealth.  Her  great  secret  of  success  lay 
in  making  herself  thoroughly  acquainted  with 
all  that  concerned  her  lofty  patrons,  and  in 
using  her  knowledge  to  the  profit  of  both  par- 
ties. 

And  so  she  was  silent.  After  the  lapse  of  a 
few  days  there  came  from  the  gothic  chamber 
of  the  princess  the  curt  little  command  :  "  Pack 
up  !  "  From  later  bulletins  it  was  ascertained 
that  a  very  long  journey  was  in  prospect.  In 
a  few  days  more  the  princess  came  forth  her- 
self, walked  about  slowly  and  silently,  gave  or- 
ders concerning  some  trifles  and  wrote  some 
letters.  After  this  she  disappeared  again.  The 
next  day  brought  the  message  :  "  This  evening 
at  seven  o'clock."  At  the  stroke  of  six  she 
appeared  herself  in  traveling  costume,  accom- 
panied by  her  maid,  who  was  also  dressed  for 
traveling.  The  companion  stood  ready  for  de- 
parture beside  the  trunks  which  the  servant, 
who  was  all  ready  too,  was  to  close,  after  the 
princess  had  cast  an  approving  glance  at  their 
contents. 

The  first  word  the  companion  had  spoken  to 
Princess  Leaney  since  their  memorable  drive 
she  now  uttered.  As  though  by  chance  she 
placed  herself  at  the  side  of  the  princess,  and 
looking  out  into  the  court-yard  softly  observed ; 


50  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

"  People  in  town  only  know  that  our  ponies 
ran  away  —  nothing  more." 

A  withering  look  of  displeasure  met  her  gaze ; 
this  was  gradually  transformed  into  one  of  as- 
tonishment, and  this  in  turn  into  one  of  dis- 
may. 

"  Is  he  then  dead  ?  "  the  princess  gasped,  and 
every  word  quivered  with  agonized  dread. 

"  No,  I  saw  him  an  hour  since." 

The  companion  did  not  return  the  look  the 
princess  gave  her,  nor  had  she  done  so  before ; 
she  was  gazing  out  into  the  court-yard  toward 
the  stable,  from  which  the  carriage  had  been 
drawn  out  and  the  horses  just  led  forward. 
When  finally  she  found  it  advisable  to  turn,  — 
and  it  was  long  before  she  did  find  this  advisa- 
ble, as  the  princess  said  nothing  and  the  servant 
did  not  stir ;  he  must  have  seen  something  be- 
fore him  which  riveted  him  to  the  spot,  —  when 
finally  the  companion  deemed  it  advisable  to 
turn  she  saw  in  the  twinkling  of  an  eye  that 
the  effect  of  her  information  had  been  complete. 
The  terrified  imagination  of  the  princess  had 
naturally,  during  these  feverish  days,  pictured 
the  jubilant  derision  which  must  now  fill  the 
town  ;  she  had  fancied  it  spreading  as  far  as 
Rome,  indeed,  through  the  newspapers,  over 
the  whole  world ;  she  had  felt  her  hitherto  un 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  51 

bowed,  brilliant  defiance  annihilated  in  a  few 
hideous  moments  ;  it  had  seemed  to  her  as  if 
she  had  been  dragged  through  the  mire  by  the 
hair  of  her  head.  And  so  no  one  besides  him 
and  themselves  knew  what  had  occurred  ?  He 
had  kept  perfectly  silent  ?     What  a  man  ! 

The  beautiful  large  eyes  of  the  princess 
darted  flashes  of  fire  around  the  room,  but 
shortly  afterward  they  assumed  a  laughing  ra- 
diance ;  she  drew  up  her  head  and  her  whole 
figure,  took  several  turns  up  and  down  the 
room,  as  far  as  the  trunks  and  other  traveling 
luggage  permitted,  thei.  smiling  and  giving  her 
parasol  a  little  twirl,  she  said,  — 

"  Unpack  !     We  will  not  go  to-day  !  " 

Then  she  abruptly  left  the  room. 

In  a  short  time  the  maid  came  and  asked  the 
companion  to  dress  for  a  walk. 

As  often  and  as  long  as  they  had  been  in 
Ancona  it  was  the  first  time  the  princess  had 
been  willing  to  take  part  in  the  evening  prom- 
enade of  the  fashionable  world.  Therefore  the 
companion  would  have  had  opportunity  for 
some  astonished  words  in  reply  to  the  look  of 
astonishment  with  which  the  maid  accompanied 
this  announcement ;  but  the  look  was  in  itself 
an  impertinence,  and  so  there  was  nothing 
said.     When  Theresa,  all  dressed,  entered  the 


52  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

great  mirror-lined,  pillared  salon,  she  could  see 
through  the  open  door  into  the  faintly-lighted 
ante-room,  and  there  she  beheld  her  companion 
standing  waiting.  The  costume  of  the  princess 
alone  would  have  justified  the  maid's  expres- 
sion of  countenance  as  she  opened  and  closed  the 
door  ;  but  the  companion  followed  as  though 
they  had  been  every  day  accustomed  to  make 
this  expedition  and  as  though  the  princess  ap- 
peared every  evening  in  such  elegant  attire. 

In  a  lilac  silk  dress,  richly  trimmed  with 
lace,  she  rustled  down  the  steps.  Her  figure 
was  vigorous  and  already  rather  full,  and  yet  it 
gave  an  impression  of  suppleness  because  she 
was  also  tall  and  had  a  certain  vivacious  bear- 
ing. Contrary  to  her  custom  she  now  wore  her 
hair  dressed  in  braids,  and  there  floated  behind 
her  a  long  lace  veil,  fastened  on  one  side  of  the 
head  with  a  brooch,  on  the  other  with  a  rose ; 
the  sleeves  of  her  dress  were  so  open  that  when 
she  used  her  fan,  her  long  gloves  did  not  quite 
suffice  to  cover  her  arms.  She  did  not  join  her 
companion,  but  strode  briskly  forward  ;  it  was 
the  duty  of  the  other  to  keep  always  at  her 
side. 

The  evening  was  lively,  for  there  was  pleas- 
ant weather  for  the  first  time  after  some  blus- 
tering days.     But  as  the  princess  advanced  aL 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  63 

conversation  stopped  only  to  begin  again,  when 
she  had  passed,  with  a  tumultuous  current,  like 
a  stream  that  had  been  dammed  up  and  let  loose 
again.  Princess  Theresa  Leaney  participating 
in  the  evening  promenade  !  Princess  Theresa 
Leaney  on  theCorso!  And  how?  Radiant  with 
beauty,  wealth,  graciousness,  with  a  friendly 
look  for  all,  she  saluted  the  ladies  she  had  been 
in  the  habit  of  seeing  from  childhood  up,  the 
merchants  she  had  dealt  with,  the  noblemen  and 
officers  she  had  conversed  with.  In  this  the  most 
renowned  of  all  Italian  towns  for  the  beauty  of 
its  women,  she  did  not,  to  be  sure,  carry  off  the 
palm  ;  nevertheless,  far  and  near  she  had  been 
Burnaraed  "  the  beauty  from  Ancona,"  and  the 
town  had  for  many  years  been  ready  to  lower 
its  banner  and  join  in  the  anthem  of  homage 
whenever  she  wished.  And  now  she  was  will- 
ing. There  was  a  look  of  insinuating  entreaty 
in  the  eyes  with  which  she  smiled  a  greeting  on 
her  "  people,"  something  apologetic  in  the  bow 
with  which  the  smile  was  accompanied.  As 
she  returned  she  remarked  the  change  in  the 
sentiments  of  her  subjects,  and  ventured  to 
pause  and  converse  with  the  members  of  one 
of  the  oldest  noble  families  of  the  town.  They 
were  sitting  in  front  of  a  caf^  in  the  middle  of 
the  Corso.     They  received  her  with  surprise, 


54  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

yet  couiteously  ;  she  cared  for  the  rest  herself. 
The  old  gentleman,  who  was  the  head  of  the 
family,  became  more  and  more  fascinated  the 
longer  she  remained,  and  took  pride  and  de- 
light in  presenting  every  one  to  her.  She  had 
a  friendly  greeting  for  all,  was  witty,  joyous, 
and  divided  her  attentions  equally  between  the 
ladies  and  the  gentlemen,  until  an  atmosphere 
was  created  that  finally  became  laden  with 
merriment.  The  group  kept  constantly  in- 
creasing in  size,  and  when  she  moved  away  a 
large  triumphal  procession  and  loud-voiced  con- 
versation accompanied  her.  It  might  be  said 
that  the  Corso  was  that  evening  the  scene  of  a 
festival  of  universal  reconciliation  between  the 
best  society  of  the  town  and  this  its  comely 
child,  and  it  seemed  as  though  both  parties 
were  alike  happy  therein. 

The  evening  was  advancing  when  she,  and 
her  followers  with  her,  rose  once  more  from 
champagne  and  ices  ;  it  was  for  the  third  time. 
She  found  no  rest  very  long  in  any  one  place. 
Gayly  but  slowly  the  party  moved  on  up  the 
street.  Three  officers  came  walking  along, 
somewhat  covered  with  dust,  and  with  rapid 
steps ;  they  were  evidently  returning  from  a 
long  expedition.  The  companion  found  her 
way.  as  by  chance,  to  the  side  of  the  princess 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  65 

and  whispered  something  in  her  ear.  The 
princess  looked  up,  and  at  once  recognized  the 
form  —  there  came  Mansana  ! 

Quite  as  a  matter  of  course  the  companion 
then  glided  over  to  the  other  side,  and  The- 
resa moved  farther  along  toward  the  place  she 
had  left ;  it  was  so  near  the  officers  that  the 
nearest  one  could  have  stroked  her  dress  with 
his  sabre  had  he  chosen  to  come  one  step  closer. 
Now  the  nearest  one  was  Mansana.  The  prin- 
cess saw  that  he  recognized  her ;  the  light  fell 
full  on  the  spot.  She  observed  that  he  was 
surprised.  But  she  also  noticed  that  the  short 
vigorous  face  seemed,  as  it  were,  to  close  itself, 
that  the  small  deep  eyes  at  once  became  veiled. 
He  had  the  considerate  tact  not  to  appear  to 
recognize  her.  She  gave  him  a  look  for  that 
and  for  his  silence,  besides  —  her  large  dark  ej^es 
sparkled,  —  a  look  that  went  to  his  heart  and 
kindled  there  a  fire  that  burst  in  flames  over 
his  cheeks.  He  walked  on,  no  longer  able  to 
fix  his  thoughts  on  the  conversation  of  his  com- 
rades. He  was  obliged,  too,  to  take  the  express 
train  early  that  night  in  order  to  follow  his 
father's  bones,  the  next  day,  to  their  grave  of 
honor  in  his  native  place.  No  one  deemed  it 
singular  that  he  went  home  eaily. 


66  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 


CHAPTER   V 


The  next  day,  as  we  have  before  seen,  he 
lollowed  his  father's  bier  with  a  desire,  seem- 
ingly, to  leap  far  over  and  beyond  it.  That 
one  look  bestowed  on  him,  who  had  insulted 
her,  by  Princess  Theresa  Leaney,  in  whom  he, 
in  his  proud  defiance,  had  expected  to  find  a 
deadly  enemy,  that  one  look  from  out  of  all 
her  beauty  and  in  the  midst  of  her  triumphal 
progress  on  the  Corso,  had  created  a  new  im- 
age, and  placed  it  on  a  pedestal  within  his  soul. 
It  was  the  image  of  the  princess  herself,  as 
life's  own  victory-radiant  goddess.  Before  this 
pure,  sublime  beauty,  all  calumny  sank  away 
as  the  feeble,  vain  efforts  of  a  petty  soul,  and 
his  own  conduct  seemed  like  a  presumptuous, 
contemptible  piece  of  brutality.  Was  it  she  he 
had  dared  frighten  and  pursue  ? 

And  the  development  that  had  led  him  to 
Buch  profanation,  that  is  to  say,  his  own  hard 
life  experience,  he  now  tore  asunder,  link  by 
link,  as  he  followed  his  father's  bier,  begin- 
ning with  his  father  himself.  For  from  his 
father  this  dangerous  inheritance  of  defiance 
had  been  transmitted  to  his  soul,  where  it  had 
taken  root.     It  had  inspired  him  with  an  ego 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  57 

tisiic,  savage  will ;  he  had  most  truly  been  bis 
own  model  in  every  respect.  Had  his  father 
been  anything  very  different  ? 

His  noble  and  beautiful  mother  had  so  often 
wept  as  she  sat  alone  with  her  children  ;  her 
tears  were  an  accusation  against  the  man  who 
had  forsaken  wife,  child,  and  property  to  follow 
—  what  ?  —  his  defiance,  his  ambition,  his  re- 
venge, which  so  often  are  the  unruly  comrades 
of  patriotism,  becoming  at  last  its  masters. 
He  knew  this  to  be  so  from  his  own  experience 
and  from  that  of  hundreds  of  others  who  were 
now  passed  in  review,  one  by  one. 

The  music  pealed  forth,  the  cannons  roared, 
the  air  was  filled  with  cries  of  JEvviva  and 
flowers  in  honor  of  his  father's  memory. 

"  What  hollowness  in  such  a  life,"  thought 
the  son :  "  from  conspiracy  to  prison,  from 
prison  to  conspiracy  again,  while  mother,  wife, 
and  child  tread  the  path  to  poverty ;  while 
property  is  sold  and  nothing  gained  except  the 
restless  heart's  rapid  flight  from  suffering  in  re- 
venge to  revenge  in  suffering  again.  And  this 
suffering  was  the  inheritance  of  my  childhood  — 
and  with  it  an  empty  life  I  " 

And  his  father's  old  friends  gathered  about 
Wm.  to  press  his  hand.  They  congratulated  him 
on  his  father's  honor,  they  even  congratulated 
him  on  being  the  worthy  heir. 


68  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

"  Aye,  my  life  has  been  as  hollow  as  Lis,"  he 
continued  in  his  thoughts.  "  Swayed  by  a  de- 
light in  revenge,  as  long  as  there  was  war,  a 
restless  craving  for  adventure  of  necessity  fol- 
lowed, a  vain  ambition,  a  conceited  sense  of 
invincibility  became  the  controlling  element  of 
life  — brutal,  selfish,  hollow,  all  of  it."  And  he 
vowed  that  henceforth  his  comrades  should 
have  something  else  to  talk  about  than  Giu- 
seppe Mansaua's  last  exploit,  and  that  he  himself 
would  strive  for  a  nobler  pride  than  that  caused 
by  being  sated  with  the  consciousness  that  he 
never  spoke  of  himself. 

The  nearer  they  drew  to  Mansana's  birth- 
place, the  more  exultant  became  the  throng 
and  the  more  eager  to  see  Giuseppe,  the  mar- 
tyr's celebrated  son.  But  to  him,  here  on  the 
play-grounds  of  his  childhood,  it  seemed  as  if  his 
grandmother  once  more  sat  on  the  curb-stone 
and  was  now  casting  stones  at  the  procession  : 
she  was  stoning  that  which  had  trampled  under 
foot  her  life  with  all  that  she  had  gathered 
about  her  to  make  it  happy. 

Yet  when  his  mother's  grave,  troubled  eye 
rested  on  him,  her  gaze  seemed  almost  an  in- 
sult. She  did  not  know  what  thoughts  he  had 
just  been  cherishing  about  all  this,  and  about 
Sais  own  life  as  a  continuation  of  his  father's 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  69 

Why  should  she  give  him  so  anxious  a  look, 
when  he  had  just  bidden  farewell  to  the  temp- 
tations of  a  passion  for  honor?  And  he  re- 
turned her  gaze  defiantly,  for  it  did  not  strike 
home  to  him. 


CHAPTER  VI. 


Two  days  later  Mansana  stood  on  the  heights 
by  the  wall  surrounding  the  ancient  cathedral 
of  Ancona.  Neither  on  the  noseless  red  marble 
lions  that  are  the  bearers  of  the  porch  pillars, 
nor  on  the  glorious  bay  lying  at  his  feet,  did  he 
bestow  a  look.  His  eye,  indeed,  glided  over  the 
decks  of  the  ships  and  boats  of  lading  below,  as 
well  as  over  the  busy  life  in  the  arsenals  and 
about  the  wharves ;  but  his  thoughts  still  lin- 
gered in  the  cathedral  where  he  had  just  been 
himself,  for  there  he  had  seen  her.  A  solemn 
festival  had  called  her  thither.  He  had  seen 
her  kneel,  and  what  was  more,  she  had  seen 
him !  Aye,  she  had  evidently  been  glad  to  see 
him,  and  had  given  him  the  same  indescribable 
look  as  on  that  ever  memorable  evening.  He 
could  not  gaze  at  her  any  longer  without  being 


60  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

obtrusive  or  attracting  attention,  and,  besides, 
the  incense-laden  air  and  the  dim,  religious  light 
had  become  unbearable  to  him.  Here,  though, 
it  was  fresh  and  free,  and  thoughts  of  beautiful 
objects  could  float  about  amid  the  beauty  of  the 
surrounding  scene.  Behind  him  he  heard  the 
people  leaving  the  church  ;  he  saw  them  again 
in  the  windings  of  the  road  below,  on  foot  and 
in  carriages :  he  would  not  glance  round,  he 
was  waiting  until  he  could  see  her  below  him. 
Suddenly  he  heard  steps  approaching  of  one, 
of  two  persons ;  his  heart  throbbed,  a  mist 
gathered  before  his  eyes  ;  for  the  whole  world 
he  would  not  have  turned.  Some  one  paused 
at  his  side,  also  in  front  of  the  wall.  He  felt 
who  it  was  and  could  not  refrain  from  turn- 
ing without  appearing  discourteous.  She,  too, 
was  now  gazing  out  over  the  ships,  the  bay, 
and  the  sea,  but  observed  at  once  that  he  had 
changed  his  position.  Her  face  was  flushed,  but 
she  colored  still  more  deeply  as  she  smiled  and 
said,  — 

"  Pardon  me  for  seizing  this  opportunity.  I 
saw  you,  and  I  must  express  my  thanks." 

She  ceased.  She  wanted  to  say  more,  he 
was  sure  of  that.  It  did  not  come  at  once,  it 
was  quite  an  eternity  before  it  came.  But  at 
last  he  heard  the  words  :  — 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  61 

"  There  are  times  when  nothing  could  be 
more  magnanimous  than  silence.    Thank  you ! " 

She  bowed  forward,  and  he  again  ventured 
to  look  up.  What  grace  !  What  a  smile  was 
hers,  as  she  glided  away,  followed  by  her  com- 
panion !  What  a  walk,  what  a  noble  form  ! 
And  her  long  veil  floated  about  in  the  wind, 
playing  against  her  red  velvet  dress. 

The  road  leading  down  from  the  heights  is 
a  winding  one  ;  her  carriage,  which  had  halted 
at  some  distance,  now  drove  up  toward  her  and 
turned  below  the  upper  wall.  But  she  had  not 
reached  it  before  she  too  heard  footsteps  behind 
her,  almost  running  steps  ;  she  stood  still  and 
looked  round  ;  she  knew  who  it  was.  She  met 
his  impetuosity  with  a  smile,  doubtless  to  set 
him  at  his  ease. 

"  I  did  not  at  once  fully  comprehend,"  said 
he,  as  he  bowed  to  her,  while  a  deep  flush  over- 
spread his  bronzed  face.  "  But  it  was  by  no 
means  out  of  consideration  that  I  was  silent,  it 
was  from  pride.  I  will  not  appropriate  an 
honor  I  do  not  in  the  least  deserve.  And  par- 
don me  for  my  rudeness." 

There  was  a  tremor  in  his  deep-toned  voice  ; 
he  spoke  with  an  effort  •  Mansana  was  not  a 
man  of  words.  As  he  touched  his  hat,  however, 
to  make  his  parting  salutation,  his  hand  trem 


62  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

bled,  and  this,  as  well  as  what  had  gone  before, 
gave  the  princess  an  impression  of  great  elo- 
quence. 

And  thus  it  came  to  pass  that  Princess  The- 
resa was  attracted  by  so  much  frankness,  and 
felt  a  desire  to  reward  it ;  for  what  discoveries 
had  not  she  also  made  about  herself.  And  thus 
it  happened,  furthermore,  that  Princess  Theresa 
did  not  step  into  her  carriage,  but  walked  past 
it  between  Captain  Mansana  and  her  compan- 
ion. Thus  also  it  chanced  that  she  retraced  her 
steps  at  his  side,  and  that  for  more  than  an 
hour  they  walked  back  and  forth  at  the  foot  of 
the  upper  wall,  with  the  glorious  view  below 
them. 

And  when  finally  after  she  had  taken  her  seat 
in  the  carriage  and  was  being  whirled  round  the 
cui've  leading  into  the  lower  road  that  ran  par- 
allel with  the  one  she  had  just  left,  she  once 
more  sent  him  a  bow  and  a  smile  in  response  to 
his  renewed  salutation,  —  he  continued  his 
march  to  and  fro  in  the  same  spot  for  another 
hour.  The  sharp  outlines  of  the  bay,  the  ver- 
dure-clad slope  of  the  mountains,  the  blue  infin- 
ity of  the  sea,  the  sails  dotted  over  the  latter, 
and  the  columns  of  smoke  in  the  horizon,  — 
beautiful  indeed  is  the  bay  of  Ancona  ! 

Through  this  unpremeditated  encounter  she 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  63 

had  gained  about  the  same  knowledge  that  he 
had  gained ;  the  history  of  her  past  had  been 
very  similar  to  that  of  his  ;  she  had  told  him  so 
in  acknowledging  her  vain  defiance,  her  strug- 
gling ambition  :  with  suppressed  exultation,  he 
had  received  this  confession,  word  by  word,  from 
her  lips. 

Yonder  image  of  beauty,  far,  far  beyond  hU 
plane  of  existence,  now  hovered  smiling  about 
him,  full  of  faults  and  yearnings  like  his  own, 
but  encircled  by  a  halo  of  loveliness  and  glory 
into  which  he  felt  himself  uplifted. 

Oh,  the  Bay  of  Ancona  !  how  bold  its  wind- 
ings, how  keenly  blue-black  the  bosom  of  its 
waters  in  a  breeze,  how  soft  the  transitions  of 
color  out  upon  the  sea,  terminating  in  a  lumin 
ous  haze  ! 


CHAPTER   VII. 


What  was  it  that  prevented  him  from  pre 
senting  himself  forthwith  at  her  palace  ?  A  se 
cret  hope  that  she  might  once  more  appear  to 
him.  A  vanity  as  long  buried  within  the  heart 
and  nurtured  in  secret  as  Mansana's  had  been, 
is  capable  of  the  most  astonishing  surprises  ;  it 


64  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

can,  in  fact,  be  both  shy  and  daring  at  the  same 
time.  He  was  really  too  shy  to  seek  her,  not- 
withstanding her  invitation  ;  and  yet  he  was 
bold  enough  to  believe  that  she  would  herself 
come  to  the  place  where  she  had  last  met  him. 
He  went  every  day  to  mass,  but  she  did  not 
come  ;  and  when  he  met  her  accidentally  by 
the  sea,  and  on  foot,  he  saw  that  she  was  either 
embarrassed  or  displeased  at  his  non-appear- 
ance, he  could  not  understand  which. 

Too  late  he  discovered  that  in  cherishing  a 
hope  founded  on  his  vanity,  he  had  set  aside 
all  common  politeness.  He  hastened  to  the 
palace  and  sent  in  his  card. 

An  old  Italian  palace  which  often  has  a 
foundation  wall  built  in  the  days  of  the  great 
empire,  an  interior  dating  back  to  the  Middle 
Ages  or  transition  period,  an  exterior  with  fa- 
cade and  portico  from  the  days  of  the  renais- 
sance, or  a  period  directly  following,  and  whose 
ornamentations  and  furniture  belong  to  quite  as 
many  ages,  while  the  statues,  carvings,  mova- 
bles, may  be  traced  back,  the  first  to  the  plun- 
derings  of  the  Crusaders  in  the  Greek  islands 
and  in  Constantinople,  the  rest  to  the  Byzantine 
period,  and  thence  carried  down  to  the  present 
day,  —  such  an  Italian  palace,  which  can  only 
be  found  in  seaport  towns,  is  a  fragment  of  the 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  65 

history  of  civilization  as  well  as  that  of  a  fam- 
ily ;  and  it  produces  a  strong  impression  on  him 
who  enters  it,  especially  if  he  be  one  who  was 
born  among  the  people  and  is  endowed  with 
keen  powers  of  observation.  It  also  invests  her 
who  is  established  therein  as  the  mistress  of  the 
triumphal  hall  of  her  ancestors,  with  a  con- 
sciousness which  imparts  to  friendliness  some- 
thing condescending,  to  politeness  something 
aristocratic  ;  but  even  this  is  not  needed  to  re- 
move her  to  a  great  distance  from  one  who  ap- 
proaches her  with  an  evil  conscience.  The  sur- 
roundings in  such  an  instance  have  a  terribly 
subduing  effect :  even  the  familiar  intercourse 
of  a  few  preceding  interviews  cannot  prevent 
the  grand  stairways,  the  lofty  apartments,  the 
history  of  a  thousand  years,  from  intimidating 
one  who  passes  through  the  portal  with  a  breach 
of  courtesy  on  his  conscience.  If  in  addition 
to  all  this  one's  imagination  has  pictured  some- 
what closer  relations  with  the  mistress  of  the 
palace,  that  same  imagination  will  frighten  one 
away  to  a  greater  distance  than  needful. 

Thus  it  came  to  pass  that  the  first  meeting 
proved  a  failure.  Mansana  was  invited  to  call 
again,  and  did  so  with  the  embarassing  sense 
that  the  previous  interview  had  been  awkward ; 
consequently  the  second  call  turned  out  badly. 


^6  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

Afterward  he  met  the  princess  with  his  wound- 
ed vanity  on  guard  —  and  saw  her  smile. 

All  his  proud  defiance  then  returned.  But 
what  could  he  do  ?  Here  he  dared  not  swear, 
not  even  speak ;  he  was  silent ;  he  suffered,  he 
went  away,  came  again,  and  became  aware 
that  she  was  toying  with  his  agony  !  Had  she 
once  felt  herself  vanquished,  she  now  learned 
the  relish  of  conquering  her  victor :  she  was 
treading  familiar  paths,  and  thus  she  bore  her- 
self with  entrancing  superiority. 

Never  did  captured  lion  so  tug  at  his  chains 
as  did  Giuseppe  Mansana  at  the  delicate  net- 
work of  ceremonials  and  patronizing  condescen- 
sion that  surrounded  him.  Nevertheless,  it  was 
impossible  for  him  to  remain  away.  In  the 
frenzy  of  his  nights  and  the  soul-consuming 
mad  chase,  round  and  round  in  the  same  circle, 
by  day,  his  strength  was  exhausted.  Humility 
took  possession  of  him. 

He  could  not  bear  to  hear  her  discussed  by 
others  ;  and  he  himself  dared  not  mention  her 
name  lest  he  should  betray  his  passion  and  be- 
come an  object  of  derision.  He  could  not  brook 
seeing  her  in  the  society  of  others  ;  and  he 
himself  dared  not  associate  with  her  lest  he 
should  be  compelled  to  undergo  some  humilia- 
tion.    Not  once,  but  a  hundred  times  he  felt 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  67 

a  desire  to  slay  both  her  and  whoever  for  the 
moment  she  preferred  to  him,  but  was  forced 
to  control  himself  and  go  away.  He  was  thor- 
oughly convinced  that  this  must  lead  to  in- 
sanity or  death,  perhaps  to  both. 

Yet  so  utterly  powerless  was  he  to  struggle 
against  his  danger  that  at  times  he  would  lie 
flat  on  the  ground  in  order  to  present  to  him- 
self a  picture  of  his  own  utter  helplessness. 

Why  not  end  his  career  in  some  deed,  some 
brilliant  deed  of  revenge,  worthy  of  his  past  ? 
But,  like  thunder-clouds  above  a  mountain, 
thoughts  like  these  glided  across  his  soul  while 
it  was  in  the  fetters  of  Nature's  law. 

At  last  he  was  formally  bidden  to  Princess 
Theresa's  palace.  One  of  the  most  celebrated 
musicians  of  Europe,  returning  that  autumn 
from  still  farther  south,  passed  through  Ancona, 
and  stopped  there  to  pay  his  respects  to  the 
princess,  whose  acquaintance  he  had  made  in 
Vienna.  She  invited  all  the  Slite  of  Ancona  to 
a  superb  festival,  the  first  she  had  given  in  her 
palace.  The  arrangements  were  worthy  of  her 
wealth  and  station ;  universal  joy  prevailed, 
bearing  along  in  the  current  the  invalid  master 
himself,  who  took  a  seat  at  the  piano  and  began 
to  play.  The  first  note  he  struck  had  power  to 
transform  the  entire  assemblage  into  a  group 


68  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

of  friends,  as  often  happens  when  beauty  re- 
moves all  restraints. 

Theresa's  eyes  sought  those  of  others,  in  or- 
der that  she,  too,  might  give  and  receive ;  and 
as  her  gaze  wandered  around  it  fell  on  Mansana, 
who  in  complete  self-forgetfulness  had  pressed 
forward  and  was  standing  close  beside  the 
piano.  The  master  was  playing  a  composition 
entitled  "  Longing,"  in  which  out  of  the  most 
profound  anguish  there  was  a  reaching  upward 
for  consolation.  He  played  like  one  who  had 
known  sorrow  that  bore  him  to  the  brink  of 
despair.  Never  had  the  princess  beheld  a  coun 
tenance  like  Mansana's  at  this  moment.  It  was 
harder  than  usual,  aye  repulsively  hard  ;  and 
yet  tear  after  tear  rolled  in  rapid  succession 
down  his  cheeks.  He  looked  as  if  he  were  brac- 
ing himself  with  an  iron  will,  in  order  not  to 
break  down,  and  at  the  same  time  he  gave  the 
impression  of  trying  to  force  back  his  tears. 
She  had  never  seen  anything  so  full  of  contra- 
diction and  so  wretched.  She  gazed  intently 
at  him,  and  becoming  overwhelmed  at  last  by  a 
strange  dizziness  that  even  caused  her  to  believe 
that  it  was  he  who  was  in  danger  of  falling,  she 
rose  to  her  feet.  A  loud  burst  of  applause 
brought  her  to  her  senses,  at  the  same  moment 
Bo  far  withdrawing  all  eyes  from  her  that  sh« 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  69 

gained  time  to  compose  herself  and  wait  until 
she  could  again  safely  dare  to  look  up  and  en- 
deavor to  draw  a  long  breath. 

The  composition  was  not  quite  ended,  but 
she  saw  Mansana  steal  toward  a  door ;  doubt- 
less the  applause  had  startled  him,  too,  and  led 
him  to  the  discovery  that  he  was  unable  to  con- 
trol his  emotions. 

Her  terror  of  a  moment  since  still  tingling 
through  her  veins,  she  abruptly  sped  through 
the  listening  multitude,  to  the  astonishment  of 
all,  and  passing  out  of  the  nearest  door,  has- 
tened onward  as  though  it  depended  on  her  to 
hinder  a  misfortune,  —  not  without  a  feeling  of 
guilt,  not  without  a  feeling  of  responsibility. 
As  she  had  expected,  he  stood  in  the  ante-room, 
where  he  had  just  thrown  his  cloak  over  his 
shoulders ;  his  hat  was  already  on  his  head. 
None  of  the  servants  were  at  hand,  for  they  too 
had  taken  the  liberty  to  listen  to  the  music, 
and  so  she  walked  rapidly  forward. 

"  Signore ! " 

He  turned,  met  her  flashing  eyes,  and  saw 
her  excitement,  as  with  both  hands  she  stroked 
back  the  stray  locks  from  cheeks  and  neck,  a 
movement  which  with  her  always  I  etokened 
decision  but  at  the  same  time  invested  ber  form 
with  its  highest  beauty. 


70  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

"  The  train  yesterday  brought  me  the  new 
Huiigiiri;iu  horses  I  told  you  about  lately.  To- 
morrow we  must  try  them.  Pray,  will  not  you 
do  me  the  kindness  to  drive  for  me  ?  Will  you 
not  ?  " 

His  bronzed  skin  grew  pale ;  she  heard  his 
rapid  breathing.  But  he  neither  looked  up  nor 
spoke,  he  merely  bowed  in  acquiescence.  Then 
he  laid  his  hand  on  the  artistically  wrought 
door  handle,  which  yielded  with  a  sonorous 
sound. 

"  At  four  o'clock,"  she  added,  hurriedly. 

He  bowed  once  more  without  raising  his  eyes, 
but  in  the  open  door  he  turned  toward  her 
again,  hat  in  hand,  proudly  erect.  This  was 
his  farewell.  He  saw  her  bestow  on  him  a 
questioning  look.  ITis  countenance  might  have 
called  this  forth.  It  certainly  could  not  have 
concealed  the  flash  of  inspiration  which  illu- 
mined his  gloomy  mind,  for  now  the  knowl- 
edge had  come  to  him  how  all  this  was  to  end. 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  71 


CHAPTER   VIII. 

At  four  o'clock  the  next  day  he  was  ushered 
by  a  servant  through  the  ante-room  and  mir- 
rored salon  into  the  concert  hall,  and  onward 
to  one  of  the  interior  gothic  rooms,  where  lay 
scattered  the  photogi'aphs  of  the  last  journey. 
It  was  announced  to  him  that  the  princess 
would  be  ready  immediately. 

She  made  her  appearance  in  a  sort  of  Hunga- 
rian or  Polish  costume ;  the  weather  was  rather 
chilly  now  in  November,  and  especially  to-day. 
She  wore  a  close-fitting  velvet  dress,  with  a  sa- 
ble-edged sacque,  which  reached  to  the  knees, 
on  her  head  was  a  high,  sable-trimmed  cap,  her 
hair  floated  loose. 

As  she  gave  him  her  hand,  which  was  cased 
in  a  white  glove,  whose  sable  heading  was  bor- 
dered with  lace,  it  was  with  the  same  firm,  con- 
fiding trust  to  which  eyes,  face,  aye,  the  volup- 
tuous form  itself,  bore  witness.  It  could  not  he 
otherwise !  At  all  events,  his  interpretation 
was  that  she  wanted  to  manifest  a  confidence 
she  did  not  possess.  This  was  confirmed  by  her 
Boon  lightly  observing  that  perhaps  it  might 
be  as  well  to  postpone  the  drive:  the  horses 
had  not  yet  recovered  from  the  shock  of  their 


72  CAPTAIN  MANS  AN  A. 

railroad  travel.  With  cold  derision  he  dis- 
missed her  fears.  She  studied  his  face :  it  be- 
tokened excitement  and  suffering,  but  was  oth- 
erwise a  closed  book  —  as  it  was  wonderfully 
capable  of  appearing.  His  manner  was  distant 
but  more  decided  than  it  had  been  for  a  long 
time.  Word  was  brought  that  the  horses  were 
waiting  without  ;  at  the  same  moment  the 
companion  entered.  Mansana  offered  the  prin- 
cess his  arm;  she  took  it.  On  the  steps  she 
again  looked  up  in  his  face  and  thought  she 
perceived  a  light  in  it.  Now  she  was  alarmed. 
At  the  carriage  door,  availing  herself  of  the  op- 
portunity arising  from  the  necessity  of  having 
the  horses  held  while  they  got  into  the  vehicle, 
she  again  said,  — 

"  Is  it  not  really  too  soon  to  drive  with 
them  ?  Had  we  not  better  put  it  off  until  an 
other  time  ?  " 

Her  voice  quivered  as  she  spoke,  and  laying 
her  trembling  hand  on  Mansana's  arm,  she 
looked  up  trustingly  into  his  eyes.  His  counte- 
nance became  transformed  under  this  look,  his 
eyes  darkened. 

"  I  thought  you  would  scarcely  be  willing  to 
venture  on  a  drive  with  me  —  a  second  time  !  " 

Blushing  crimson,  the  princess  jumped  into 
the  carriage.     Pale  as  a  corpse,  rigid  as  a  pole 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  73 

the  companion  followed  ;  but  as  though  bound 
for  the  dance  Mansana  sprang  lightly  on  the 
box.  No  servant  accompanied  them,  the  car- 
riage was  a  light  one-seated  vehicle. 

As  soon  as  the  horses  were  set  free,  the  dan- 
ger became  manifest ;  the  animals  stood  on  their 
hind  legs,  one  of  them  pulled  in  one  direction, 
one  in  another.  It  certainly  took  more  than  a 
minute  to  drive  through  the  gate.  "  Good 
Heavens  !  to  think  that  you  should  wish  this !  " 
whispered  the  companion,  her  eyes  fixed  in  dead- 
ly terror  on  the  two  animals,  who  reared  and 
plunged  and  reared  again,  received  each  a  blow 
with  the  whip,  darted  back,  tried  to  spring  to 
one  side,  received  another  blow,  drew  back, 
gained  another  blow,  and  finally  started  for- 
ward. The  mode  of  applying  the  lash  was  evi- 
dently not  the  most  approved  in  the  world. 

When  the  street  was  reached  the  two  foreign 
horses  began  to  tremble  and  stamp  on  the 
ground ;  the  new  objects  about  them,  the  new 
sounds,  the  new  coloring,  the  brilliant  south- 
ern light  and  warm  glow  over  everything, 
frightened  them.  But  Mansana's  skill  and 
strength  of  arras  kept  them  in  a  gentle  walk 
until  they  had  passed  the  Cavour  monument ; 
then  they  began  gradually  to  break  loose.  Man 
Bana  looked  over  his  shoulder  and  met  Princess 


74  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

Theresa's  eyes,  and   now  it  was  lie  who  was 
happy  and  she  who  suffered. 

What  could  have  led  her  to  the  unlucky  no- 
tion of  planning  this  drive  ?  No  sooner  had  she 
proposed  it  than  she  regretted  having  done  so. 
She  had  felt  sure,  the  moment  she  detected 
that  gleam  in  his  eye  yesterday,  that  he  would 
use  this  drive  as  a  punishment,  and  that  too 
with  the  same  merciless  resolution  he  had 
shown  before.  Why,  then,  was  she  sitting  here  ? 
While  noting  accurately  every  movement  made 
by  him,  by  the  horses,  she  asked  herself  this 
question  over  and  over  again,  not  with  a  view 
of  obtaining  an  answer,  but  because  her  thoughts 
must  be  active. 

Forward  sped  the  horses  in  the  most  rapid  trot 
that  was  possible ;  nor  did  their  speed  slacken. 
Mansana  finally  looked  round.  It  was  a  move- 
ment of  exultation  ;  his  eyes  shot  fire.  But  this 
was  only  the  momentary  introduction  to  what 
followed.  Raising  his  whip,  and  giving  it  a 
dexterous  swing,  he  let  it  fall  whizzing  on  the 
backs  of  both  animals  at  once.  No  sooner  did 
they  hear  its  sound  in  the  air  than  with  a  leap 
forward  they  broke  into  a  gallop. 

Not  a  sound  from  the  two  who  sat  within. 

Then   he  repeated  the    feat,    thereby   com- 
pletely maddening  the  horses. 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  75 

The  road  began  to  wind  up  a  steeper  and 
Bteeper  hill.  And  just  at  this  point  Mansana 
raised  the  whip  for  the  third  time,  swung  it 
over  his  head  like  a  lasso,  and  let  it  fall. 

Now  this  action,  during  this  furious  speed, 
at  such  a  place,  was  clear  as  a  lightning  flash 
in  its  significance  :  it  was  not  punishment  he 
sought,  it  was  death,  —  death  with  her ! 

If  there  be  any  faculty  of  our  soul  which  tes- 
tifies of  its  divine  origin  it  is  this  :  the  amount 
of  time  and  number  of  events  it  can  compass  in 
the  second  of  a  second.  From  the  moment 
when  the  whip  inscribed  that  jubilant  arc  in 
the  air  until  it  fell,  Princess  Leaney  had  not  only 
discovered  but  had  actually  experienced  their 
united  lives,  interpreted  by  the  new  light,  and 
had  gained  certainty  in  regard  to  this  silent, 
pi'oud  love  of  Mansana's,  that  made  him  ready 
to  meet  death  with  exultation  when  it  could  be 
shared  with  her,  —  and  in  that  same  second  of 
a  second  she  had  buth  formed  her  resolve  and 
carried  it  into  execution. 

For  simultaneously  with  the  fall  of  the  whip 
he  heard  behind  him  the  one  word,  "  Man- 
sana !  "  —  not  uttered  in  terror  or  condemna- 
tion :  no,  it  was  a  wild  shout  of  joy.  He 
whirled  round  ;  there,  in  the  midst  of  this  tem- 
pestuous drive,  she  stood  erect,  with  beaming 


76  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

countenance  and  outstretched  arms.  More  rap- 
idly than  it  can  be  told,  he  had  turned  toward 
the  horses,  thrown  aside  the  whip,  wound  the 
reins  three  times  around  his  arms,  and,  strain- 
ing every  nerve,  braced  himself  against  the 
dash-board  of  the  carriage.  He  would  live  with 
her. 

Now,  indeed,  a  desperate  struggle  ensued. 
He  had  resolved  to  turn  the  course  of  death's 
bridal  procession  into  that  of  life. 

In  a  whirling  cloud  of  dust,  on  the  very  brink 
of  the  precipice,  they  dashed  stormily  onward  ; 
the  foaming  horses  could  be  forced  to  hold  their 
heads  higher,  so  that  their  manes  fluttered  be- 
hind them,  like  sable  pinions,  —  that  was  all. 
At  last  Mansana  grasped  the  right  rein  with 
both  hands,  in  order  to  guide  the  mad  race  into 
the  middle  of  the  road,  —  taking  his  chance 
about  encountering  whatever  obstacle  might  be 
in  the  way  ;  for  at  all  events  they  should  pass 
proudly  through  the  portal  of  death.  He  suc- 
ceeded in  getting  the  horses  into  the  middle  of 
the  road,  but  their  speed  was  not  checked,  — 
and  lo  !  far  beyond  he  thought  he  descried  a 
mass  of  objects  approaching ;  the  whole  road 
was  blocked  up  by  it.  A  nearer  view  proved  it 
to  be  one  of  those  interminable  herds  of  cattle 
which  in  the  autumn  are  driven  to  the  seashora 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  '  77 

Then  he  started  to  his  feet,  flinging  the  reins 
over  the  dash-board.  A  loud  shriek  behind 
him  !  He  leaped  forward  ;  still  another  pierc- 
ing shriek  ;  but  he  was  already  on  the  back  of 
the  right  horse,  grasping  the  other  by  the  bit. 
The  one  on  which  he  was  sitting  sprang  into 
the  air  while  still  running,  whereby  it  was 
thrown  down  by  the  other  horse.  It  was 
nevertheless  carried  along  for  some  distance 
by  the  outer  thill  until  this  broke  beneath  the 
burden,  and  was  then  still  dragged  onward  un- 
til the  neck-yoke  also  gave  way.  Mansana's 
grasp  of  the  bit  saved  him,  and  together  with 
the  weight  of  the  disabled  horse,  brought  the 
race  to  an  end.  But  the  fallen  horse  felt  the 
carriage  upon  it  and  kicked  out  wildly ;  the  one 
standing  reared ;  the  carriage  pole  snapped, 
one  piece  struck  Mansana  on  the  side,  yet  he 
did  not  relax  his  hold,  and  was  now  in  front  of, 
or  rather  under,  the  standing  horse,  with  a  cruel 
grip  in  its  nostrils,  until  it  became  as  meek  as 
a  captured,  trembling  lamb.  He  was  up  him- 
self in  a  moment ;  the  prostrate  horse,  which 
had  made  several  dangerous  attempts  to  rise, 
was  helped. 

And  now,  thickly  covered  with  dust,  tattered 
and  torn,  bleeding,  hatless,  Mansana  for  the 
first  time  ventured  to  look  up  and  about  him. 


78  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

Theresa  was  standing  at  the  open  carriage 
door.  She  must  have  been  about  to  jump  out 
aud  liave  been  cast  back  by  one  of  the  terrible 
shocks  they  bad  experienced,  and  have  started 
to  her  feet  again,  —  or  something  to  that  effect ; 
she  herself  knew  not  how  it  had  happened.  But 
what  she  now  did  fully  comprehend  was  that 
he  stood  there  safe,  holding  the  shivering  horses 
by  the  bits. 

Out  of  the  carriage  and  toward  him  she 
sprang ;  and  he  turned  to  receive  her  with 
wide  open  arms ;  she  flung  herself  into  them  ! 
Bosom  was  strained  to  bosom,  lip  sought  lip, 
and  thus  these  lofty  forms  stood  wrapped  each 
in  the  other's  embrace.  And  this  seemed  as 
though  it  would  never  end.  The  arms  did  not 
relax,  not  even  to  renew  their  clasp,  neither 
were  lips  nor  eyes  withdrawn  ;  hers  only  sank 
deej)er  into  his. 

The  first  word  that  was  spoken  was  a  whis 
pered  "  Theresa  !  "  Then  their  lips  were  again 
sealed. 

Never  did  woman  with  greater  rejoicing  ac- 
cept the  place  of  ruler  than  she  that  of  subject 
when  this  embrace  at  last  came  to  an  end. 
Never  did  fugitive,  with  such  prodigiously 
sparkling,  joyous  eyes,  beg  pardon  for  hav- 
ing struggled  for  freedom.     Never  before  did 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  79 

princess  plunge  with  such  zeal  into  her  duties 
as  a  slave,  as  did  she,  when  she  discovered  his 
wound,  his  torn  and  dust-covered  condition. 
With  her  delicate  white  hands  and  her  rich 
handkerchief  and  pins,  she  began  to  cleanse, 
bind  up,  and  fasten  together,  and  with  her  eyes 
she  healed  and  made  whole,  —  perhaps  not  the 
wounds,  and  yet  it  really  was  the  wounds,  for 
he  felt  them  no  more. 

For  each  little  service,  there  was  an  added 
caress,  fresh  silent  or  spoken  joy.  Finally  they 
so  entirely  forgot  carriage,  horses,  and  compan- 
ion, that  they  betook  themselves  on  their  way 
toward  town,  as  though  there  remained  to  them 
nothing  more  than  to  press  onward  with  their 
new-found  happiness.  A  cry  of  alarm  from  the 
companion  and  the  slowly  approaching  herd 
awakened  them. 


CHAPTER  IX. 


Their  blissful  intoxication  neither  ended 
that  day  nor  the  days  that  immediately  fol- 
lowed. The  higher  circles  of  Ancona  were 
drawn  into  it,  since  the  betrothal  was  celebrated 


80  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

with  fetes  and  excursions.  There  was  indeed 
Bomething  startlingly  romantic  in  the  whole  af- 
fair. Mansana's  fame,  the  wealth,  rank,  and 
beauty  of  the  princess ;  she  the  hitherto  invin- 
cible, he  the  ever  victorious ;  and  then  even  the 
circumstances  attending  the  betrothal,  that  in 
the  mouths  of  the  people  had  acquired  the  most 
incredible  embellishments,  —  all  this  combined 
to  heighten  one  degree  Princess  Theresa's  fe- 
licity, surrounding  it  with  a  truly  magic  halo. 

When  these  two  were  seen  together,  a  fine 
contrast  was  presented  by  them.  They  were 
both  tall,  they  had  the  same  elastic  step  and 
proud  carriage ;  but  her  face  was  long,  his 
short ;  her  eyes  were  large  and  wide-open,  his 
small  and  deep.  One  could  not  but  admire  her 
delicate,  long  nose,  pouting  lips,  noble  chin, 
beautifully  arched  cheeks,  encircled  by  black 
hair ;  but  his  low  brow,  small,  firmly  com- 
pressed mouth,  defiant  chin,  shortly-cropped 
hair,  did  not  invest  him  with  beauty.  Quite 
as  great  was  the  difference  between  her  out- 
wardly-manifested joy,  her  brilliant  discourse, 
and  his  taciturn  manner. 

But  neither  she  nor  their  friends  would  have 
had  him  otherwise,  not  even  at  such  a  time  aa 
this ;  for  he  was  true  to  his  nature.  Why 
even  matters  on  which  he  was  ready  to  stake 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  81 

his  life  became  transformed  into  every-day  com- 
monplaces when  he  allowed  himself  to  talk 
about  them  ;  but  as  a  rule  he  did  not  talk. 

And  so  neither  the  princess  nor  the  social 
circle  in  which  she  and  Mansana  moved,  per- 
ceived that  now,  aye,  at  this  very  time,  he  was 
undergoing  a  great  change. 

There  is  a  certain  boundless  submission,  a 
jealous  zeal  in  rendering  service,  which  con- 
verts the  recipient  into  a  slave  or  a  mere  tool. 
Not  a  moment's  liberty,  not  a  particle  of  free- 
dom of  will  is  allowed  to  remain.  The  slightest 
expression  of  anything  of  the  kind  calls  forth 
twenty  new  plans  for  the  attainment  of  what  is 
desired  and  a  tumult  of  passionate  actions. 

There  is  a  way  of  giving  confidence  which 
insinuates  itself  into  those  precincts  of  our  soul 
where  mortal  has  never  penetrated  before  — 
divines  thoughts,  brings  to  light  reflections,  and 
is  exceedingly  embarrassing  to  one  wlio  has 
been  in  the  habit  of  living  shut  up  within  him- 
self. 

Such  and  more  was  the  case  in  regard  to  Man- 
sana. Within  a  few  days  he  was  satiated  ;  the 
ineffable  exhaustion  resulting  from  excitement, 
that  of  despair  as  well  as  that  of  joy,  made  him 
doubly  irritable.  There  were  moments  when  he 
abhorred  the  sight  both  of  her  and  of  society. 


82  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

He  was  shocked  himself  at  this  as  at  the  black- 
est ingi-atitude,  and  in  the  honesty  of  his  soul 
he  finally  confessed  it  to  her.  He  gave  her 
some  idea  of  what  he  had  suffered,  and  how 
near  destruction  he  had  been,  showing  her  that 
this  excess  of  mad  public  festivity  was  just  the 
opposite  of  what  he  needed.  He  could  bear  no 
more. 

She  was  deeply  moved  by  this  revelation.  In 
the  midst  of  a  cloud  of  the  wildest  self-ac- 
cusations, she  decided  on  rest  for  him,  depart- 
ure for  herself.  She  would  go  to  Rome  and 
Hungary  to  make  arrangements  for  the  wed- 
ding ;  he  should  go  to  a  mountain  fortress  far- 
ther south,  where  he  could  exchange  with  an 
officer  who  wanted  to  be  in  Ancona.  She  was 
BO  strong  she  speedily  carried  this  plan  into  ex- 
ecution. Within  two  days  both  he  and  she 
had  left  the  place.  The  parting  on  her  side 
was  very  affecting  ;  on  his,  truly  heartfelt :  her 
love  and  ardor  touched  him. 

But  no  sooner  was  he  alone,  first  on  the 
journey  and  afterward  in  the  garrison,  than  he 
sank  into  a  state  of  complete  apathy.  He  had 
scarcely  any  other  recollection  of  her  than  a 
confused  tumult  of  impressions.  He  could  not 
even  prevail  on  himself  to  open  the  letters  that 
came  from  her  ;  he  shrank  from  her  vehemence. 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  83 

The  fact  was  she  telegraphed  and  wrote  at 
least  once  each  day,  and  when  his  obligations 
to  reply  pressed  too  heavily  upon  him,  he  fled 
from  his  own  room,  where  all  lay  unfulfilled 
and  waiting.  When  not  on  duty,  therefore,  he 
wandered  about  in  the  woods  and  hills  beyond 
the  town,  for  the  country  was  unusually  wild 
and  beautiful  in  this  vicinity. 

On  these  excursions  he  could  dissolve  all  he 
had  been  through  into  a  species  of  illusion.  The 
title  of  principessa-eccellenza  has  not  the  same 
charm  in  Italy  as  elsewhere ;  there  are  too  many 
who  bear  it,  some  of  them  occupying  question- 
able positions.  Nor  had  the  fortune  inherited 
by  Theresa  from  her  father  anything  alluring 
about  it,  for  it  had  been  gained  by  her  mother 
through  treachery  to  the  fatherland  in  its  pe- 
riod of  degradation.  Neither  did  Theresa's 
beauty  continue  to  hold  sway,  for  it  was  begin- 
ning to  grow  too  ripe.  Their  romantic  meet- 
ing no  longer  sufficed  to  wipe  out  the  long 
humiliation  she  had  at  first  permitted  him  to 
endure,  and  her  final  abandonment  left  behind 
a  sense  of  ennui.  In  stronger  moments,  how- 
ever, Mansana's  dream-images  strove  to  attain 
different  forms,  but  then  his  pride  revolted  and 
assured  him  that  in  a  union  with  Princess  Lea- 
iiey  he  must  always  be  the  inferior,  perchance 


M  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

in  the  end  the  toy  of  her  caprices.  Had  he  not 
akeady  been  so  ? 

After  his  morning  walk  he  usually  rested  on 
a  bench  beneath  an  old  olive-tree,  just  beyond 
the  town.  From  there  he  walked  down  to  his 
breakfast.  One  morning  he  saw  two  people, 
an  elderly  gentleman  and  a  young  lady,  take 
their  seats  on  the  bench  as  he  left  it.  The 
same  thing  occurred  the  next  morning  and  at 
the  same  hour.  The  day  following  this  he 
kept  his  seat  rather  longer  than  usual,  not 
without  design,  and  thus  had  an  opportunity  to 
look  at  the  young  lady  and  talk  with  the  old 
gentleman.  The  facility  with  which  Italians 
enter  into  a  conversation  and  an  acquaintance 
soon  made  him  possessor  of  the  facts  that 
the  gentleman  was  a  pensioner  from  the  past 
administration  ;  that  the  young  lady  was  his 
daughter,  was  about  fifteen  years  of  age,  and 
was  just  out  of  a  convent.  She  kept  very  close 
to  her  father  and  spoke  but  little,  yet  Mansana 
thought  she  had  the  sweetest  voice  he  had  ever 
heard. 

Afterward  they  met  every  day  and  not  by 
chance.  He  always  waited  on  the  heights  until 
he  saw  them  coming  up  from  the  town,  and 
then  he  approached  the  bench.  They  were  both 
very  friendly  and  quiet.   The  old  gentleman  fel 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  85 

into  the  habit  of  talking  a  little  every  day,  in 
a  timid  way,  about  politics ;  when  he  was 
through  Mansana  would  exchange  a  few  words 
with  the  daughter.  She  was  the  living  image 
of  her  father.  He  had  been  corpulent ;  his  face 
still  preserved  a  certain  wrinkled  plumpness. 
She  would  become  just  like  him,  for  her  little 
dumpy  figure  gave  promise  of  this ;  it  pos- 
sessed, however,  that  budding  fullness  to  which 
a  morning  dress  is  so  becoming,  and  Mansana 
never  saw  her  in  anything  else.  The  father's 
eyes  were  feeble  and  watery;  hers  were  half 
closed,  her  head,  too,  she  kept  slightly  bowed. 
The  little  individual's  face  and  figure  had  great 
powers  of  attraction  in  this  quiet  intercourse. 
Her  hair  was  carefully  done  up,  day  after  day, 
in  the  latest  style  ;  this  betrayed  a  desire  on 
the  part  of  the  child  of  the  cloister  to  be  one 
with  this  wicked  world.  Those  small  plump 
hands  that  were  so  well  poised  on  the  firmly- 
knit  wrists,  were  always  busied  with  some 
dainty  bit  of  needle-work  which  the  head  was 
bowed  over  and  the  half-closed  eyes  followed. 
She  raised  the  drooping  lids  when  Mansana  ad- 
dressed her,  but  usually  bestowed  only  a  side 
glance  on  him,  although  she  did  not  wholly 
look  away.  The  yet  undeveloped  soul  of  a 
child  peeped  forth  from  her  eyes  half  shyly, 


86  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

half  joyously,  but  with  thorough  cu/iosity,  on 
the  new  world  she  had  entered,  and  on  this  new 
person  she  had  found  in  it.  The  more  one 
gazes  into  such  half -closed  eyes,  the  more  they 
fascinate,  inasmuch  as  they  never  wholly  reveal 
their  hidden  depths.  So  far  as  hers  were  con- 
cerned, there  was  often  something  roguish  lurk- 
ing in  their  corners,  and  what  they  actually 
thought  of  him  —  aye,  that  Mansana  would 
have  given  much  to  know.  And  simply  in 
order  to  gain  favor  in  her  eyes  he  told  her 
more  about  himself  than  he  had  ever  in  his  life 
told  to  any  one  person.  It  diverted  him  to 
watch  her  two  dimples  coming  and  going  while 
he  talked,  and  the  continual  play  about  the 
small  mouth,  which  was  as  red  and  as  sweet 
as  an  untouched  berry. 

But  it  diverted  him  still  more  when,  with  a 
voice  whose  innocent  tones  rang  in  his  mind 
like  the  warbling  of  birds  on  a  parched  summer 
morning,  she  began  bashfully  but  inquisitively 
to  question  him  about  his  approaching  mar- 
riage. Her  ideas  concerning  betrothals  and 
wedding-trips,  if  not  directly  expressed,  at  least 
peeping  out  all  over  her  questions,  were  so 
enchanting  that  they  restored  the  old  charm  to 
the  subject  itself. 

To  her  it  was  due  that  ten  or  twelve  days 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  87 

after  his  arrival  in  this  place  Theresa  actually 
received  a  letter  from  him,  and  immediately 
afterward  several  others. 

He  was  no  master  of  the  pen  ;  his  letters, 
therefore,  were  as  brief  as  his  conversations; 
that  they  became  ardent  was  due  again  to  the 
little  one.  Every  morning  after  breakfast  he 
wrote ;  the  fact  was,  he  took  so  lively  a  pleas- 
ure in  those  innocent  morning  conversations, 
surveying  the  fresh  girlish  form,  the  deft  fin- 
gers that  were  engaged  in  the  needle-work,  the 
harmony  of  mouth,  eyes,  and  dimples,  enjoying 
the  tones  of  her  voice,  that  all  his  old  yearnings 
were  revived. 

Quite  a  contrast  to  the  little  one  did  Theresa 
present  in  all  her  superb  grandeur  of  body  and 
mind,  when  he  sat  at  his  desk  holding  converse 
with  her.  Even  now  he  could  not  smile  at  her 
vehemence,  yet  how  magnanimous  was  her  ac- 
ceptance of  his  silence  :  — 

"  It  did  not  worry  me  in  the  least.  Of  course 
you  should  not  have  written !  You  needed 
rest  even  from  me  ;  you  ought  to  have  been 
free  from  my  letters,  too,  at  all  events  from 
their  impetuosity.  But  forgive  me !  This  is 
your  fault  alone,  as  /  alone  am  to  blame  for 
what  you  now  suffer.  I  can  never  forgive  my- 
Belf,  but  will  endeavor  to  make  amends  to  you 
through  all  the  rest  of  my  life  I  " 


88  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

Not  one  in  a  thousand  would  have  thomHit 
and  written  thus ;  he  was  forced  to  admit  this  to 
himself  —  and  at  the  same  time  that  she  always 
exhausted  him.  In  order  to  become  more  com- 
posed and  calm,  he  wrote  her  about  Amanda 
Brandini,  —  that  was  the  young  girl's  name. 

He  repeated  a  conversation  the  little  one 
had  had  with  him  about  weddings  and  mar- 
riages. It  seemed  to  him  very  attractive,  and 
he  thought  he  had  expressed  it  so  well  that  he 
could  not  help  reading  the  letter  over  a  second 
time. 

The  sprightly  morning  meetings,  over  which 
he  rejoiced  the  whole  day  long,  were  never  fol- 
lowed by  an  invitation  to  visit  father  and  daugh- 
ter in  their  own  home.  This  honorable  reserve 
pleased  Mansana  and  the  interviews  awakened 
ever  greater  and  greater  longings  for  Theresa. 
How  unspeakably  was  not  the  princess  sur- 
prised when  she  received  a  telegram  announc- 
ing that  he  would  meet  her  in  Ancona  in  three 
days,  —  he  yearned  for  her. 

The  day  the  telegram  was  sent  he  happened 
to  be  lounging  about  a  square,  on  which  was  a 
caf^,  and  feeling  thirsty  he  entered  it.  He  sat 
looking  out  on  the  square,  while  waiting  to 
be  served,  —  he  had  never  been  there  before. 
Suddenly  he  discovered  Amanda  Brandini  oc 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  89 

a  balcony  opposite.  So  that  was  where  she 
lived. 

But  at  her  side  and  leaning  over  the  railing, 
as  she  was  doing,  and  so  near  her  that  he  could 
breathe  her  breath,  stood  a  gay  young  lieuten- 
ant. He  had  been  presented  that  same  fore- 
noon to  Mansana,  who  had  heard  that  he  vs^as 
from  a  neighboring  garrison,  and  that  he  was 
usually  called  "  the  Amorin." 

But  now  "the  Araorin's "  eyes  hung  on 
hers ;  they  were  both  smiling,  while  their  lips 
moved,  and  as  what  they  were  saying  could  not 
be  heard  it  looked  to  Mansana  as  though  they 
were  whispering  confidentially  together.  They 
never  seemed  to  get  through. 

Giuseppe  Mansana  felt  the  blood  rush  to  his 
heart,  and  he  experienced  a  burning  pain.  He 
rose  and  strode  away,  then  remembered  that  he 
had  not  paid  for  what  he  had  left  behind  un- 
touched, turned  and  settled  his  account.  When 
he  got  outside  and  again  looked  up,  he  was  sur- 
prised to  see  the  two  in  the  balcony  engaged  in 
wrestling.  "The  Amorin"  was  urging  some- 
thing, she  was  defending  herself,  as  red  as 
blood.  The  struggle  set  off  her  figure,  her 
eagerness,  her  face.  '•  The  Amorin's"  insolent 
assurance  called  forth  a  tumultuous  opposition. 
Who  had  admitted  such  a  house-breaker*? 
Where  was  her  father? 


90  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 


CHAPTER  X. 


The  next  morning  Mansana  sat  earlier  than 
was  his  wont  on  the  bench  ;  but  the  other  two 
also  came  earlier.  They,  too,  must  find  satisfac- 
tion in  the  interviews  and  desire  to  prolong 
them,  now  that  but  two  yet  remained.  From 
the  inevitable  political  introduction  with  the 
father,  he  suddenly  turned  toward  Amanda 
witb,  — 

"  Who  was  that  you  were  wrestling  with  on 
the  balcony  yesterday  ?  " 

Her  face  became  suffused  with  the  loveliest 
blushes,  while  her  eyelids  drooped  even  more 
than  usual ;  still  she  tried  to  look  at  him. 

A  young  girl  blushes,  indeed,  at  everything, 
but  this  Mansana  did  not  know.  He  grew 
quite  as  pale  as  she  was  rosy.  This  alarmed 
her  ;  he  saw  it,  and  mismterpreted  this  also. 

The  father,  who  had  been  listening  with 
open  mouth,  broke  out,  — 

"  Ah,  now  I  understand  !  Luigi,  my  sister's 
Bon,  Luigi  Borghi !  Yes,  he  is  in  town  on  a 
visit  of  a  few  days ;  will  remain  for  the  town 
festival.     Ha,  ha,  he  is  a  madcap  !  " 

But  Giuseppe  Mansana  went  straight  from 
this  interview  to  his   friend   Mnjor  Sardi,   the 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  91 

man  for  whose  sake  he  had  chosen  this  especial 
garrison,  and  asked  him  about  Luigi's  charac- 
ter.    It  was  bad. 

Thence  he  went  to  the  young  man  himself, 
who  lived  at  a  hotel  and  had  just  risen.  Luigi 
Borghi  greeted  his  superior  officer  respectfully 
and  with  many  apologies.  They  both  took 
seats. 

"  I  leave  here  to-morrow  to  be  married,"  be- 
gan Mansana.  "  I  mention  this  in  order  that 
what  I  am  about  to  say  may  be  understood  — 
as  it  is  meant.  I  have,  during  my  brief  sojourn 
here,  taken  a  great  liking  to  an  innocent  young 
girl.     Her  name  is  Brandini." 

"  Ah,  Amanda  !  " 

"  She  is  your  cousin  ?  " 

"  Yes,  she  is." 

"  Do  you  stand  in  any  other  relation  to  her? 
Do  you  intend  to  marry  her  ?  " 

«  No  —  but  "  — 

"  I  have  no  other  motive  in  questioning  you 
about  this  than  that  of  a  gentleman.  You  need 
not  reply,  if  you  object." 

"  Certainly  not !  I  repeat  it  with  pleasure  : 
I  do  not  intend  to  marry  Amanda  ;  she  is  very 
poor." 

"  Very  well.  Why,  then,  do  you  go  as  you 
do  to  the  house  ?     Why  do  you  call  forth  senti- 


92  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

ments  in  her  to  which  you  have  no  thought  of 
responding,  and  which  may  so  easily  be  misin- 
terpreted ?  " 

"  Your  last  remark  seems  to  me  to  imply  an 
accusation." 

"  To  be  sure.  You  are  knovm  to  be  a  reck- 
less libertine." 

"  Signore  !  "  and  the  young  lieutenant  rose 
to  his  feet. 

At  once  the  tall  captain  did  the  same. 

"  I,  Giuseppe  Mansana,  say  this,  and  am  at 
your  service." 

But  little  Luigi  Borghi  had  no  fancy  to  be 
slain  at  such  an  early  and  interesting  age  by 
the  first  fencer  in  the  army.  And  so  he  was 
silent,  and  his  eyes  sought  the  ground. 

"  Either  you  will  promise  me  never  to  enter 
her  house  again,  never  to  seek  her  society, 
or  you  will  have  to  answer  for  your  conduct  to 
me.  I  have  resolved  to  settle  this  before  I 
leave.     Why  do  you  hesitate  ?  " 

"  Because,  as  an  officer,  I  cannot  be  known 
to  have  been  compelled  "  — 

"  To  do  a  good  deed  ?  You  may  thank  your 
God  if  you  can  be  !  Perhaps  I  have  presented 
the  subject  in  the  wrong  way.  I  should  un- 
doubtedly have  said  to  you  :  '  Do  what  I  ask 
of  you,  and  you  shall  be  my  friend,  and  may 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  93 

count   on    me    in   whatever   straits    you   may 
come ! '  " 

"  I  would  gladly  have  for  my  friend  so  great 
an  officer,  and  would  be  proud  to  be  able  to 
count  on  Giuseppe  Mansana's  generous  aid." 

"  Very  well.  Then  you  promise  what  I 
ask?" 

"  I  promise  !  " 

"  Thank  you  !     Your  hand  !  " 

"  With  all  my  heart !  " 

"  Farewell !  " 

"  Farewell !  " 

Two  hours  later  Mansana  went  down  to  the 
toledo  of  the  little  town.  There,  outside  of  a 
shop,  stood  Amanda  and  Luigi,  engaged  in  a 
conversation  which  seemed  to  be  highly  enter- 
taining to  both,  for  they  were  laughing  heart- 
ily. The  father  was  inside  of  the  shop,  paying 
for  some  purchases.  None  of  them  saw  Man- 
sana until  he  was  in  their  midst.  His  pale,  sal- 
low face  sufficed  to  send  Amanda  flying  in  ter- 
ror to  her  father ;  but  the  still  morp  appalled 
lieutenant  remained  where  he  was  and  said, 
retreating  a  step,  — 

"  I  assure  you,  sign  ore,  I  was  requested  to 
come  here  !  And  we  —  we  were  not  laughing 
at  you." 

At  that  moment  a  shriek  from  Amanda  rang 


94  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

out  of  the  shop.  It  was  caused  by  Giuseppe 
Mansana's  appearance,  as  he,  without  a  word, 
without  a  gesture,  made  a  stride  forward,  just 
one,  toward  her  little  cousin.  There  was  a 
leopard's  seven-ells  leap  in  this  stride ;  the 
next  moment  Luigi  might  be  a  dead  man. 

But  every  one  in  the  shop  and  on  the  street 
turned  to  the  young  girl  who  had  uttered  the 
shriek,  and  who  stood  nestled  up  to  her  father. 
From  her  the  eyes  of  the  by-standers  wandered 
in  all  directions.  There  was  nothing  to  be 
seen.  Two  officers  stood  quietly  outside  in  the 
street  conversing  together.  What  was  the  mat- 
ter? Those  who  were  outside  came  into  the 
shop,  and  all  gathered  about  Amanda.  What 
was  it  ?  But  she,  exposed,  for  the  first  time  in 
her  life,  to  the  gaze  and  questions  of  the  multi- 
tude, stood  aghast,  and  her  father,  who  had 
failed  to  obtain  an  answer,  became  bewildered. 
Then  Mansana  parted  asunder  the  group  about 
her,  and  with  a  silent  air  of  command  offered 
her  his  arm ;  she  hastened  to  accept  it  and 
walked  away  with  him  ;  her  father  followed. 

Wh«i  they  were  out  of  ear-shot,  Mansana 
said,  — 

"  It  is  my  duty  to  tell  you  that  your  kins, 
man.  Lieutenant  Borghi,  is  a  profligate  wretch, 
who  deserves  and  shall  receive  chastisement." 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  95 

How  alarmed  Amanda  was  again  :  first  to 
hear  that  Luigi  was  a  profligate  wretch,  al- 
though she  did  not  exactly  know  what  that 
meant,  and  next  that  Luigi  was  to  receive  chas- 
tisement, although  she  knew  not  why.  She 
gazed  this  time  with  wide-open  eyes  into  Man- 
sana's  face  ;  but  looked  none  the  wiser.  Her 
lips,  too,  parted.  A  great  curiosity  began  to 
break  through  her  fear ;  Mansana  detected  it, 
—  and  angry  as  he  had  just  been  he  now  could 
not  but  smile  at  such  intensely  stupid  inno- 
cence, and  its  ludicrous  and  bewitching  expres- 
sion. And  thus  suddenly  thrown  into  a  good- 
humor  again,  he  even  observed  at  last  what  a 
comical  appearance  the  father  presented.  The 
old  gentleman  was  like  a  school-boy  who  has 
been  listening  to  ghost  stories  in  the  dark.  In 
order  to  show  Mansana  how  thoroughly  he  un- 
derstood all  that  was  horrible,  he  manifested  a 
profound  gratitude  and  begged  him  to  accom- 
pany them  home. 

This  Mansana  did  ;  and  Amanda,  who  hoped 
bhe  might  learn  something  more,  clung  to  him 
in  the  most  deferential  and  insinuating  manner. 
He  began  by  conjecturing  her  purpose,  and  it 
amused  him  ;  but  ended  by  forgetting  this  and 
feeling  jubilant  delight  over  the  melodious  mur- 
mur of  her  voice,  over  each  roguish  word,  and 


96  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

at  the  thought  that  her  sweet  lips,  about  which 
the  dimples  came  and  went,  her  half-closed  eyes, 
in  their  enigmatical  play,  and  her  harmonious 
nature,  for  one  moment  were  wholly  conse- 
crated to  him,  and  that  this  fresh,  youthful 
form,  in  all  the  fullness  of  its  beauty,  lived  and 
breathed  in  his  proximity. 

The  next  morning  their  last  interview  was  to 
take  place ;  but  no,  it  was  not  permitted  to  be 
the  last ;  he  must  come  to  them  the  next  after- 
noon, for  he  was  not  to  leave  until  evening, 
lie  went  from  them  in  an  ecstasy  of  delight. 

The  soothing  influence  she  exercised  over 
him,  manifested  itself  also  by  impelling  him  to 
present  himself  that  same  afternoon  in  the  un- 
fortunate Luigi's  room  and  asking  his  pardon. 
He  was  not  to  blame  for  meeting  his  cousin  in 
the  street  and  being  accosted  by  her. 

"  And  if  you  were  laughing  at  me  "  — 

"  But  we  were  not,  indeed  !  "  protested  the 
frightened  "  Amorin." 

"  You  surely  had  a  right.  My  zeal  was 
rather  absurd.  I  am  aware  of  it  now.  Here  is 
my  hand  !  " 

This  was  hastily  seized,  a  few  disconnected 
words  were  spoken,  and  Mansana  left  —  in  uii' 
iisputed  supremacy,  as  he  had  come. 

The  little  lieutenant,  who  had  been  feeling 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  97 

like  one  who  had  death  for  his  companion,  was 
seized  with  a  dizzy  joy.  He  sprang  up  in  the 
air  and  burst  into  the  loudest  peals  of  laughter. 
Mansaua  heard  this  laughter,  and  paused  an  the 
stairs.  Luigi  shuddered  at  his  imprudence,  and 
when  there  came  once  more  a  knock  at  the 
door  he  was  too  terrified  to  say,  "  Come  in !  " 
But  the  door  was  opened,  nevertheless. 

"  Was  that  you  who  were  laughing  ?  "  in- 
quired Mansana. 

"  No,  on  my  honor  !  "  replied  the  "  Amorin," 
gesticulating  with  both  hands.  Mansana  stood 
for  a  while  contemplating  him. 

But  when  he  was  gone  again,  the  exultation 
returned.  Luigi  could  not  help  it.  And  as  he 
dared  neither  scream  nor  dance,  he  must  com- 
municate it  to  some  one.  This  he  did  at  the 
officers'  caf^  among  his  former  classmates.  It 
created  great  merriment.  Over  the  wine-cup 
witticisms  fell  like  hail  upon  the  unlucky  cap- 
tain, who  on  the  eve  of  his  wedding  with  a 
princess  created  a  scandal  by  falling  in  love 
with  a  little  boarding-school  miss. 

Major  Sardi,  Mansana's  friend,  was  witness 
to  this. 

The  next  morning  Mansana  had  his  last  in- 
terview on  the  heights.     It  began  much  earlier 
than  usual,  and  ended  mu:h  later,  and  not  until 
? 


98  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

the  door  of  father  and  daughter's  house  was 
reached.  In  the  afternoon  he  was  to  call  ac- 
cording to  promise  to  take  leave.  Half  ro- 
guishly, half  languishingly,  exactly  as  she  felt 
about  it,  Amanda  discussed  the  wedding,  for 
to  a  well  brought-up  Italian  girl  marriage  is 
the  portal  that  leads  to  all  earthly  bliss,  that  is 
to  the  state  in  which  uncertainty,  restraint,  and 
annoyances  cease,  and  in  which  perpetual  peace, 
new  dresses,  carriage  drives,  and  evenings  at 
the  opera  begin  1  Her  sweet  babble  was  but 
the  song  of  his  own  longings  ;  her  dainty  little 
person  invested  this  song  with  increased  fullness, 
so  that  the  realization  of  his  approaching  hap- 
piness impelled  him  to  tell  the  young  girl  of  the 
part  she  had  had  in  it.  Little  Amanda  shed  tears 
at  this,  —  a  young  girl's  tears  are  so  ready  to 
flow  when  anything  kind  is  said  about  her.  And 
then  she  could  not  help  telling  him  how  much 
confidence  she  felt  in  him.  She  mentioned  this 
because  she  had  always  been  a  trifle  uneasy  in 
his  presence ;  but  she  did  not  say  so.  Since, 
therefore,  it  was  not  as  true  as  she  would  her- 
self have  wished,  she  added  a  smile.  This  was 
to  strengthen  her  words.  But  where  the  smile 
shone  the  atmosphere  was  still  full  of  tears, 
and  it  formed  there  (I  mean  within  Mansana'a 
own    breast)  an   inconceivably    beautiful  rain- 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  99 

bow.  He  took  her  round  little  hand  in  both 
of  his  :  that  was  his  farewell.  He  said  some- 
thing, moreover,  but  knew  not  what  himself  ; 
she  grew  rosy  red.  He  saw  her  brow,  arms, 
and  head  above  him  on  the  stairs,  and  again 
from  the  balcony.  He  heard  floating  out  over 
the  square  a  melodious  "  Farewell !  "  and  still 
another  —  and  then  he  turned  into  a  side 
street. 

He  had  not  noticed  the  approach  of  Sardi, 
had  not  seen  that  the  latter  was  making  di- 
rectly for  him,  and  he  was  roused  in  bewilder- 
ment by  a  slap  on  the  shouder. 

"Is  it  really  true  ?  "  laughed  Sardi.  "  Are 
you  in  love  with  the  little  one  up  yonder  ?  — 
you  actually  look  so  !  " 

Mansana's  face  became  copper-colored,  his 
eyes  had  a  fixed  stare,  his  breath  came  and 
went  hastily. 

"  What  is  that  you  say  ?  "  asked  he.  "  How 
do  you  know  "  —  He  paused.  He  certainly 
would  not  himself  tell  what  he  first  wanted  to 
hear,  whether  any  one  could  have  —  whether 
Luigi  had  —  "  What  is  that  you  say  ?  "  he  re- 
peated. 

"  Upon  my  soul !  You  are  not  getting  em- 
barrassed ;  are  you  ?  " 

"  What  is  that  you  say  ?  "   reiterated  Man- 


100  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

Sana,  redder  than  before,  knitting  his  brow,  and 
laying  one  hand,  not  very  gently,  on  the  major's 
shoulder. 

This  offended  Sardi.  Mansana's  violence, 
indeed,  came  upon  him  so  unexpectedly  that  he 
had  no  time  for  reflection  ;  but  in  self-defense, 
and  in  order  to  annoy  the  friend  who  had  given 
way  to  so  unjust  an  outburst  of  wrath,  he  re- 
peated to  Mansana  what  people  already  said,  and 
how  he  had  been  made  sport  of  at  the  officers' 
caf^. 

Mansana's  wrath  knew  no  bounds.  He  swore 
that  if  Sardi  did  not  forthwith  state  who  had 
dared  such  a  thing,  he  himself  must  give  satis- 
faction for  it.  The  two  friends  were  actually 
on  the  verge  of  a  challenge.  But  Sardi  finally 
so  far  regained  his  self-possession  that  he  was 
able  to  represent  to  the  other  what  an  unpleas- 
ant noise  it  would  create  if  Mansana  should 
fight  with  him  or  any  one  else  about  his  correct 
relations  with  Amanda  Brandini,  and  that, 
too,  on  the  eve  of  his  departure  for  his  wed- 
ding with  Princess  Leaney.  The  best  answer 
would  certainly  be  to  leave  and  celebrate  his 
nuptials.  Hereupon  a  fresh  ebullition  of  wrath 
from  Mansana.  He  was  able  to  attend  to  his 
own  affairs  and  defend  his  own  honor.  Out 
with  the  names  !    Sardi  could  find  no  reason  for 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  101 

concealing  these,  and  gave  them  one  by  one, 
adding  that  if  it  would  gratify  him  to  kill  all 
these  young  lads,  he  might  if  he  chose !  Man- 
sana  wanted  to  go  forthwith  to  the  officers'  cafd, 
as  though  they  were  all  still  there.  Sardi  suc- 
ceeded in  convincing  him  of  the  folly  of  this ; 
then  he  insisted  upon  at  least  seeking  Borghi 
without  delay.  Now  Sardi  expressed  a  willing 
ness  to  present  a  challenge  to  Borghi ;  "  but," 
said  he,  "  on  what  grounds  should  he  be  chal- 
lenged." 

"  For  what  he  has  said  I  "  shrieked  the  other. 

"  Why,  what  has  he  said?  That  you  are  in 
love  with  Amanda  Brandini?  And  are  you 
not  ?  " 

Had  Mansana  set  forth  without  meeting 
Sardi,  he  would  have  been  married  a  few  days 
later  to  Princess  Leaney.  Now,  on  the  con- 
trary, this  was  what  took  place  :  — 

Mansana :  "  Do  you  presume  to  say  that  I 
love  Amanda  ?  " 

Sardi :  "  I  merely  ask.  But  if  you  do  not 
love  her,  how  the  deuce  does  it  concern  you  if 
the  whelp  does  say  so,  or  if  he  loves  her  him- 
self —  or  leads  her  astray  '^  " 

"  You  are  a  brutal  scoundrel  to  speak  so !  " 

"  Pray,  what  are  you  who  attack  a  young 
relative  merely  because  he  jokes  with  her  "  — 


102  CAPTAIN   MANS  ANA. 

*'  Jokes  with  her  I  " 

Mansana  clinched  his  fists  and  pressed  hia 
lips  together. 

"  Who  will  look  after  them  when  you  are 
gone?"  Sardi  hastened  to  remark. 

"  I  am  not  going  away  !  "  shrieked  Mansana. 

"  Not  going  away !  Have  you  lost  your 
senses  ?  " 

"  I  am  not  going  away  !  "  repeated  Mansana, 
with  hands  and  arms  uplifted,  as  though  he 
were  taking  a  solemn  oath. 

Sardi  was  alarmed. 

"  Then  you  do  love  her,  after  all,"  he  whis- 
pered. 

Mansana  gave  way  completely  !  Deep  groans 
were  lieai'd  ;  liis  powerful  frame  was  shaken  by 
them.  Sardi  feared  a  stroke  of  apoplexy.  Fi- 
nally Mansana  seemed,  as  it  were,  to  rise  su- 
perior to  himself,  his  countenance  shone,  and 
Blowly,  perfectly  self-possessed,  he  said,  — 

"I  love  her!"  and  then  turning  to  Sardi: 
"  I  shall  not  leave  !  " 

And  from  this  moment  he  was  like  a  tempest : 
he  turned,  looked  above  and  beyond  him,  and 
itormily  sped  onward. 

"Where  are  you  going?  "  asked  Sardi,  hasten 
ng  after  him. 

"  To  Borghi." 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  103 

*'  But  I  thought  I  was  to  go  to  him  I  " 

"  Then  go  !  " 

"  But  where  are  you  going  ?  " 

"  To  Borghi !  "  And  pausing,  he  added,  in 
an  ecstasy,  — 

"  I  love  her.  Any  one  who  wants  to  take 
her  from  me  shall  die!  " 

He  was  about  to  proceed  on  his  way. 

"  But  does  she  love  you  ?  "  shrieked  Sardi, 
forgetting  that  they  stood  in  the  street. 

Mansana  stretched  forth  his  sinewy  hands 
and  said  in  a  hollow  voice,  — 

'*  She  shall  love  me." 

Sardi  was  frightened. 

"  Giuseppe,  you  are  mad  !  "  said  he.  "  The 
high  pitch  to  which  you  have  been  worked  up 
was  more  than  you  could  bear.  Now  it  has 
only  assumed  new  force  and  centred  in  a  new 
object.  You  are  not  yourself  !  —  Giuseppe  — 
do  not  run  away  from  me !  Can  you  not  see 
that   the    people   on   the    street   are   noticing 

you?" 

Then  Mansana  stood  still. 

"Do  you  know  why  I  became  ill,  Cornelio? 
Because  I  paid  attention  to  the  people  on  the 
street?  I  was  forced  to  keep  silent,  to  hear, 
to  be  trampled  on !  That  was  what  made  me 
ill."      He   advanced   a   step   nearer   to   Sardi. 


104  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

"  Now    I    will    shriek    it   aloud    to    the    whole 
world  :  I  love  her  !  " 

He  actually  did  shriek  aloud,  then  turned  and 
walked  on  with  a  proud  bearing.  Sardi  fol 
lowed  and  took  him  by  the  arm.  He  guided 
him  into  a  still  narrower  street,  but  Mansana 
seemed  wholly  unconscious  of  it.  He  merely 
walked  on,  talking  in  a  loud  voice,  and  gestic- 
ulating. 

"  What  would  it  be  for  me  to  become  Prin- 
cess Leaney's  husband,"  said  he,  "  and  to  be  the 
manager  of  her  ladyship's  property  and  the 
servant  of  her  ladyship's  caprices  ?  " 

And  here  he  gave  loose  reins  to  his  deeply 
wounded  self-love. 

"  Now  for  the  first  time  I  admit  to  myself 
the  whole  truth :  it  would  have  been  an  un- 
worthy life  for  Giuseppe  Mansana." 

Sardi  thought  that  if  the  reticent  and  at 
least  outwardly  modest  Giuseppe  Mansana  could 
suddenly  begin  thus  to  shout  and  boast,  any 
other  inconceivable  thing  might  occur  ;  and  with 
a  perseverance  and  ingenuity  that  did  him  honor 
he  endeavored  to  persuade  his  friend  to  take  a 
short  trip,  if  only  for  a  couple  of  days,  in  order 
to  gain  light  on  the  emotions  and  ciroumstancea 
that  were  submerging  him.  But  he  might  as 
well  have  talked  at  a  hurricane. 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  105 


CHAPTER  XL 

That  same  evening  Amanda,  in  the  greatest 
secrecy,  received  a  lettei*,  which  made  her  ex- 
ceedingly curious.  She  struck  a  light  and  read 
it.  It  was  from  Luigi !  —  the  first  she  had  ever 
received  fi'om  him.     It  read  thus  :  — 

AmA]SIDA,  —  A  madman  is  in  pursuit  of  me 
and  wants  to  kill  me.  An  hour  ago  I  was 
obliged  to  give  him  a  solemn  promise — indeed, 
I  have  signed  my  name  to  it  —  to  relinquish  all 
claims  on  you  forever,  and  not  even  to  speak 
to  you  I  This  was  cowardice,  I  well  know.  I 
despise  myself,  as  you  must  despise  me. 

But  the  way  this  came  about  was  that  not 
until  I  had  given  my  word  did  I  know  that  I 
loved  you.  Perhaps  I  did  not  do  so  before. 
But  now  I  love  you  beyond  all  bounds,  and 
never  in  the  world  has  there  been  a  more  un- 
happy mortal  than  I  am. 

I  cannot  conceive  of  the  possibility  of  its  be- 
ing all  over !  It  cannot  be  so  forever.  It  de- 
pends, though,  altogether  on  yourself,  Amanda, 
if  you  do  not  despise  me  too  greatly.  For  if 
you  love  me  the  madman  will  accomplish  noth- 
ing, and  so  some  day  things  must  change  again. 


106  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

I  am  like  a  man  in  prison.  I  cannot  stir. 
But  this  I  know,  that  if  you  do  not  help  me  out 
again,  I  shall  die. 

Amanda !  A  word,  a  sign !  It  is  too  dan- 
gerous to  write.  I  know  not  how  I  shall  man- 
age to  get  this  to  you.  Do  not  you  try  to  send 
a  letter  to  me.  He  may  be  on  the  scent.  But 
to-morrow  at  the  festival  !  Be  there,  near  the 
band,  stay  there  until  I  have  found  you.  Then 
Bpeak  only  with  your  eyes  !  If  they  are  friendly, 
I  shall  know  all.  Ah,  Amanda,  the  rest  will  come 
of  itself  when  once  you  are  mine  !  Amanda, 
Your  devoted  and  unhappy  cousin, 

LuiGl. 

The  moment  Amanda  had  read  this  letter 
she  knew  that  she  loved  Luigi.  Never  before 
had  she  looked  into  this  matter.  But  now  she 
loved  him  beyond  measure,  of  this  she  was 
sure. 

There  must  be  some  misunderstanding  about 
what  Mansana  had  said  concerning  him,  and 
the  promise  Luigi  had  made  of  course  did  not 
amount  to  anything.  Girls  do  not  accept  such 
things  very  literally  when  they  seem  improb- 
able to  them.  Moreover,  Mansana  had  now 
gone  away. 

And    so,  the   next  day,  the  festival   day,  9 


CAPTAIN  MANS  AN  A.  107 

lOvely  autumn  day,  she  was  astir  betimes  in  the 
morning ;  the  band  had  passed  at  sunrise  and 
the  cannons  had  sent  forth  their  thundering 
peals.  The  church,  decorated  within  and  with- 
out, was  crowded,  and  little  Amanda  might  be 
seen  at  her  father's  side,  among  the  worshipers, 
dressed  in  her  choicest  finery.  She  prayed  for 
Luigi.  When  she  had  finished  she  practiced 
smiling.  She  was  resolved  to  offer  Luigi  con- 
solation through  the  most  friendly  look  she 
could  command.  When  the  procession  was 
over  and  noon  had  passed,  she  hastened  to  the 
appointed  spot ;  the  band  was  already  playing 
on  the  market-place.  She  so  urged  her  old 
father  on  that  they  were  among  the  first  grown 
people  who  arrived,  but  for  that  reason  among 
those  who  were  most  wedged  in  before  an  hour 
had  elapsed.  She  looked  at  her  father's  per- 
spiring face  and  thought  of  her  own  and  what 
a  horrid  appearance  it  would  present  to  Luigi. 
She  must  get  out  of  the  crowd,  let  it  cost  what  it 
might ;  and  yet  the  price  should  not  be  a  rose 
or  a  knot  of  ribbon,  or  even  the  least  exertion, 
for  that  would  cause  her  to  grow  redder  than 
she  now  was.  She  therefore  made  but  little 
progress. 

Yet,  alas  !  she  grew  hotter  and  hotter.     She 
heard  the  big  drum  and  a  couple  of  bass  horns, 


108  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

through  the  thunder  of  thousands  of  voices  and 
laughter  in  which  she  was  submerged ;  she  saw 
the  tower  on  the  municipal  building,  and  the 
clapper  which  extended  below  the  bell,  and 
which  was  the  last  object  she  beheld  above  the 
human  billows  that  closed  about  her.  Her  fa- 
ther's pitiable  face  told  her  how  red  and  odious 
she  must  appear  —  and  the  little  one  began  to 
weep. 

But  Luigi,  too,  had  been  among  the  first  to 
reach  the  band ;  and  as  neither  the  town  nor 
the  square  in  front  of  the  municipal  building 
were  large,  the  two  who  were  seeking  each 
other  amid  the  thronging  multitude  could  not 
well  avoid  at  last  standing  face  to  face.  He  saw 
her,  rosy  with  blushes,  smiling  through  her 
tears.  He  took  her  blushes  for  those  of  joy, 
her  tears  for  those  of  sympathy,  and  her  smile 
for  what  it  was  intended.  The  father,  in  his 
anxiety  and  distress,  hailed  Luigi  as  an  angel 
of  deliverance  and  cried,  — 

"  Help  us,  Luigi." 

And  Luigi  promptly  set  to  work  to  do  as  he 
was  bid.  The  task  was  no  easy  one ;  indeed 
both  Amanda  and  her  father  were  several  times 
in  actual  danger,  and  Luigi  felt  himself  a  hero. 
With  elbows  and  back  he  defended  them,  and 
never  once  removing  his  eyes  from  Amanda,  he 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  109 

drank  deeply  from  her  long,  timid  gaze.  He  did 
not  speak ;  he  did  not  break  his  oath !  This, 
too,  gave  him  a  proud  consciousness ;  there 
must  be  an  air  of  nobility  about  him,  and  he 
felt  from  the  reflection  in  Amanda's  eyes  that 
he  really  did  appear  noble. 

But  no  earthly  happiness  is  of  long  duration. 
Giuseppe  Mansana  had  about  a  quarter  of  an 
hour  previous  to  this  descried  Luigi  in  the 
crowd,  and  with  the  instinct  that  jealousy  pos- 
sesses, had  watched  him  from  afar,  an  easy  mat- 
ter for  one  of  Mansana's  height,  Luigi,  in  his 
restless  search,  had  constantly  worked  his  way 
forward,  and  had  thus  no  idea  of  the  danger 
close  at  hand;  and  now  he  was  so  engrossed 
with  his  task  of  deliverance,  or,  in  other  words, 
in  reflecting  his  noble  image  in  Amanda's  eyes, 
that  he  perceived  nothing  until  Mansana's  hy- 
ena face  was  directly  opposite  his,  and  he  felt 
his  scorching  breath  on  his  cheeks. 

Amanda  gave  one  of  her  well-known  screams, 
her  father  became  frightfully  stupid,  and  Luigi 
disappeared. 

At  the  same  moment,  Amanda  had  drawn 
one  arm  through  Mansana's  and  placed  the 
warm,  gloved  hand  of  the  other  on  his ;  two 
bewitching,  half-closed  eyes,  brimming  over 
with  roguishness,  fear,  and  entreaty,  looked  up 


110  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

into  his  face.  They  were  just  out  of  the  throng, 
it  was  possible  to  understand  what  was  said, 
and  Mansana  heard  from  a  voice,  which  might 
ring  the  angels  into  heaven,  — 

"  Papa  and  I  have  been  in  great  danger.  It 
was  so  nice  that  we  got  help  !  "  and  he  felt  the 
pressure  of  her  hand. 

Now  Mansana  had  seen  those  same  eyes 
dwelling  on  Luigi's  face,  and  there  rushed 
through  his  mind  a  thought  which  later  in  life 
he  took  up  again  a  thousand  times  but  now  lost 
the  moment  it  came,  and  this  thought  was, 
"I  am  certainly  entangled  in  a  stupid,  mean- 
ingless affair." 

The  little  prattler  by  his  side  continued,  — 

"  Poor  Luigi  met  us  just  at  our  extremity. 
Papa  begged  him  to  help  us,  and  he  did  so 
without  speaking  a  word.  We  did  not  even 
get  to  thank  him."  And  directly  after  :  "  It  is 
really  delightful  that  you  have  not  left  yet. 
Now  you  must  go  home  with  us  that  we  may 
have  a  good  talk  I  We  had  such  a  nice  one  the 
last  time." 

And  her  full,  young  bosom  fluttered  beneath 
its  silken  covering,  her  round  wrist  quivered 
above  her  glove,  the  tips  of  her  little  feet 
moved  restlessly  below  her  dress  ;  her  rosy  lips 
bubbled  over  with   chatter  and  laughter,  and 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  Ill 

those  two  eyes  of  hers  beamed  in  half-concealed 
familiarity,  —  and  Mansana  was  borne  along 
with  them. 

He  did  not  mention  Luigi's  name ;  it  re- 
mained like  a  dagger-point  in  his  heart ;  it  en- 
tered the  deeper  the  more  charming  she  be- 
came. This  struggle  between  pain  and  love 
made  him  absolutely  silent.  But  all  the  busier 
were  her  sweet  lips,  while  she  gave  him  a  seat 
and  brought  forward  fruits,  which  she  herseK 
peeled  and  handed  to  him.  She  went  into  a 
little  ecstasy  of  delight  that  their  meetings  on 
the  heights  were  not  yet  interrupted ;  indeed, 
she  proposed  a  little  excursion  farther  up  the 
slope,  which  they  must  make  the  next  morn- 
ing ;  she  would  bring  breakfast  along.  Still 
he  had  only  succeeded  in  uttering  a  few  mono- 
syllables. He  could  not  break  in  upon  this  in- 
nocent idyl  with  his  passion  ;  and  yet  the  strug- 
gle within  was  so  terrible  that  he  could  bear  it 
no  longer,  and  was  compelled  to  leave. 

No  sooner  was  he  down  the  steps  and  the  last 
greeting  had  been  sent  from  the  balcony,  than 
the  little  charmer,  who  had  been  so  unwearied 
in  her  flattering  attentions,  closed  tightly  the 
balcony  door  and  flung  herself  sobbing  on  her 
knees  before  her  father.  He  was  not  in  the 
least  surprised.     He  had  the  same  fear  as  she  ; 


112  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

Mansana's  last  look  as  he  left,  as  well  as  hia 
whole  presence,  had  filled  the  room  with  such 
a  fateful  atmosphere,  that  if  in  the  next  mo- 
ment they  had  all  exploded  it  would  not  in  the 
least  have  surprised  him.  And  when,  through 
her  tears,  she  whispered,  "  Father,  we  must 
leave  here ! "  he  merely  replied,  "  Yes,  my 
child,  of  course  we  must !  " 

It  was  essential  to  depart  secretly,  and  there- 
fore, if  possible,  that  very  night. 


CHAPTER  XII. 


Giuseppe  Mansana  had  been  at  Borghi's 
room  and  had  not  found  him ;  at  the  officers' 
caf^  and  not  found  him ;  later,  about  amongst 
the  festal  throng,  but  had  met  him  nowhere. 
On  the  other  hand,  he  had  encountered  many 
officers,  and  civilians,  too,  in  company  with 
them,  who  seemed  to  him  to  relapse  into  si- 
lence when  they  saw  him,  and  to  talk  in  low 
tones  together  as  he  passed  them. 

Whatever  manner  of  game  it  might  be  that 
he  was  engaged  in,  lose  he  must  not.  His  honor 
forbade  it. 


CAPTAIN   MANSANa  113 

Exhausted  in  body  and  soul,  lie  sat  late  in  tlie 
evening  on  the  watch  in  front  of  the  cafd, 
facing  the  Brandiui  apartment.  There  was  a 
light  in  Amanda's  window.  She  was  packing 
up  the  few  articles  she  and  her  father  were  to 
take  with  them,  for  in  order  to  give  their  de- 
parture the  appearance  of  a  short  trip  they 
were  to  leave  most  of  their  things  behind. 

But  Mansana  thought :  this  light  is  perhaps 
a  signal.  And  sure  enough,  when  Amanda  was 
weary  from  excitement  and  work,  she  went  out 
on  the  balcony  to  take  a  few  breaths  of  fresh 
air ;  she  could  be  seen  so  plainly  by  the  light 
behind  her ;  she  looked  down  along  the  street. 
Was  she  expecting  any  one  from  that  direc- 
tion ?  Yes,  indeed,  steps  were  heard  there 
They  came  nearer.  A  man  appeared.  He  wen^. 
In  the  line  of  the  house  toward  Amanda's  bal- 
cony ;  now  he  walked  past  a  lantern  ;  Mansana 
saw  an  officer's  cap  and  a  beardless  face ;  he 
saw  Amanda  bow  lower  toward  the  street.  A 
young  girl  who  loves,  actually  thinks  she  sees 
the  beloved  object  in  every  place,  at  all  times 
and  especially  one  whom  she  loves  in  fear 
The  officer  walked  more  slowly  when  he  de- 
scried her ;  under  the  balcony  he  paused  and 
looked  up.  Amanda  hastened  into  the  house 
and  closed   the  door ;  the   officer  walked   on. 

8 


114  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

Had  they  agreed  on  a  trysting-place  ?  Man< 
Sana  started  full  run  across  the  square ;  but 
the  officer  had  already  turned  the  corner,  and 
when  Mansana  reached  it  the  officer  was  no 
longer  in  the  street.  Into  which  house  had  he 
disappeared  ?  It  would  not  do  to  rouse  the 
whole  street  to  find  out ;  he  must  give  up  the 
search. 

By  so  trifling  an  incident  as  that  of  a  young 
officer,  who  dwelt  in  the  neighborhood,  passing 
beneath  a  balcony  on  which  a  young  damsel 
was  standing  alone,  —  by  so  trifling  an  occur- 
rence as  this,  Mansaua's  destiny  was  fulfilled. 

He  went  to  bed  that  night,  not  to  sleep,  but 
to  vow  to  himself  over  and  over  again,  in  the 
anguish  of  his  heart,  that  the  next  morning  she 
should  be  his,  or  he  would  not  live. 

But  the  next  morning  she  was  not  on  the 
heights.  He  waited  an  hour  and  still  no  one 
came.  Then  he  went  to  her  house.  Before 
the  door  to  the  lodgings  of  the  Brandinis  stood 
an  old  woman,  with  their  breakfast  and  a  note. 
As  Mansana  was  about  to  seize  the  knocker, 
the  old  woman  said,  "  There  is  no  one  at  home 
here,  as  it  seems.  But  read  this  note  that  was 
hanging  on  the  knocker."  Mansana  took  it. 
"  Gone  away.  More  later.  B."  He  let  the 
note   fall  and  strode   away.     The  old  woman 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  115 

called  after  him  to  ask  what  was  in  the  note. 
But  he  made  no  reply. 

Princess  Leaney,  on  reaching  Ancona  the 
next  day  and  not  meeting  Mansana  on  the 
platform,  experienced  great  anxiety  ;  she  knew 
not  why.  She  went  herself  to  the  telegraph 
office  and  sent  him  hearty  greetings,  which 
plainly  expressed  her  fear.  She  then  hastened 
home  and  waited  ;  her  alarm  grew  with  every 
hour.  Finally  the  telegram  was  returned 
with  the  money  that  had  been  paid  for  the 
reply  message.  Captain  Mansana  had  left  the 
town. 

Terror  overpowered  her.  The  self-reproaches 
in  which  she  had  daily  lived  became  mountains  ; 
they  shut  out  every  prospect.  She  must  go 
where  he  was,  find  him,  talk  with  him,  tend 
him  ;  she  suspected  the  worst.  Evening  found 
her  at  the  railway  station,  accompanied  by  a 
single  servant. 

In  the  dawn  of  the  morning  the  next  day  she 
was  walking  back  and  forth  at  the  junction 
with  the  road  from  the  west.  There  were  not 
many  travelers  at  the  station,  and  those  who 
were  there  she  did  not  see.  All  the  more  did 
they  look  at  her  as  she  swept  past  them,  back 
ftnd  forth,  wrapped  in  a  white  fur  cloak  which 


116  CAPTAIN   MANSANA. 

she  had  so  thrown  over  her  shoulders  that 
the  arms  hung  loose,  and  with  a  fur  cap  on 
her  head,  beneath  which  her  floating  hair  and 
veil  had  become  entangled.  The  large  eyes 
and  the  whole  face  evinced  emotion  and  weari- 
ness. In  her  restless  walk  she  often  passed  by 
a  tall  lady,  plainly  clad,  who  stood  gazing  in- 
tently at  the  luggage-van,  where  several  men 
were  busied.  Another  time  when  the  princess 
passed,  there  appeared  an  ofl&cer  who  addressed 
the  lady,  and  to  a  question  from  the  luggage- 
van  answered,  — 

"  Mansana." 

The  princess  rushed  toward  him. 

"  Mansana  ?  "  cried  she. 

"  Princess  Leaney  ?  "  whispered  the  officer  in 
astonishment,  as  he  bowed  to  her. 

"  Major  Sardi  I  "  she  said,  in  reply,  adding, 
hastily  :  "  Mansana  !  Did  you  mention  Man- 
sana ?  " 

"  Yes,  this  is  his  mother." 

As  he  introduced  them,  the  mother  drew  her 
veil  aside,  and  there  was  such  power  in  her  face 
to  arouse  the  confidence  of  the  princess  that 
the  latter  threw  herself  into  her  arms  as  into  a 
sure  refuge  from  all  sorrowing  thoughts,  and 
then  she  burst  into  passionate  tears.  Man- 
sana's  mother  silently  embraced  her,  but  stood 


CAPTAIN  MAN8ANA.  117 

as  one  who  was  waiting.  She  patted  her  affec 
tionately  but  said  nothing. 

When  Theresa  could  command  words  she 
asked,  — 

"Where  is  he?" 

"  None  of  us  know,"  replied  the  mother, 
calmly. 

"  But  we  hope  to  know  soon,"  added  Sardi. 

The  princess  sprang  up,  white  as  chalk,  star- 
ing at  them  both. 

"  What  has  happened  ?  "  cried  she. 

The  thoughtful  mother,  who  had  braved  so 
many  storms,  said  quietly,  — 

"  We  have  doubtless  the  same  journey  be- 
fore us.  Let  us  take  a  compartment  to  ourselves, 
and  then  we  can  talk  matters  over  and  hold 
counsel  together." 

This  was  done. 


CHAPTER  XIII. 


The  Brandini  family  had  gone  to  the  home 
of  Nina  Borghi,  Brandini's  sister  and  Luigi's 
mother.  It  so  chanced  that  on  the  same  night 
train  by  which   the  Brandinis  fled,   the  hero 


118  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

Luigi  also  took  flight.  They  discovered  one  an 
other  at  a  station  late  the  next  morning,  as 
Luigi  was  about  to  leave  the  train.  He  was  so 
alarmed  that  he  would  have  pushed  past  them 
without  speaking ;  but  old  Brandini  held  fast 
to  him  and  poured  into  his  ear  his  tale  of  woe. 
Luigi  merely  said,  — 

"  Go  to  mother,"  and  hastened  away. 

He  went,  however,  to  the  telegraph  office 
immediately  on  reaching  his  garrison,  and,  in  a 
very  excited  frame  of  mind,  telegraphed  to  his 
mother  announcing  her  brother's  approach. 
The  telegram  was  couched  in  such  anxious 
words  that  the  lady  to  whom  it  was  addressed, 
and  who  lived  alone  outside  of  Castellamare, 
near  Naples,  became  much  alarmed.  She  was 
not  less  so  when  her  brother  and  his  daughter 
arrived  and  told  her  what  threatened  both  them 
and  her  son. 

Captain  Mansana  had  conjectured  that  the 
Brandinis  had  gone  south,  for  there  was  no 
night  train  on  any  but  the  southern  route.  He 
followed.  But  after  vainly  seeking  during  two 
days  a  starting-point  for  further  investigations, 
he  turned  about  and  directed  his  course  toward 
ihe  town  where  Luigi  Borghi  was  stationed. 
He  must  know  where  the  two  were,  and  this 
knowledge  he  should  impart  to  him  or  take  the 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  119 

consequences  I  As  Mansana  was  aware  that 
he  was  well  known  in  the  town,  he  went  to 
work  with  great  caution,  in  order  that  Luigi 
might  have  no  warning.  Consequently  he  was 
obliged  to  pass  two  days  in  the  town  before  he 
met  him.  This  occurred  on  the  street,  when 
Mansana  had  been  searching  for  him  in  one  of 
the  little  cafes  of  the  townspeople.  To  his  as- 
tonishment, Luigi  was  not  frightened,  as  he  had 
expected  to  find  him.  And  to  his  still  greater 
astonishment,  Luigi  unhesitatingly  told  where 
the  Brandini  family  were.  Mansana  became 
suspicious.  He  called  Luigi's  attention  to  what 
it  would  cost  to  speak  anything  but  the  truth, 
but  the  little  officer  did  not  even  blink  as  he 
swore  that  what  he  said  was  true. 

Further  settlement  with  the  lieutenant  must 
be  postponed.  That  same  day  Mansana  took 
the  train  south. 

What  did  he  want  ?  Uncompromisingly  the 
Bame  :  she  should  be  his !  This  was  why  Luigi 
had  been  so  leniently  treated.  Since  Amanda's 
warily  undertaken  flight,  there  was  a  tempest 
raging  within  Mansana's  soul ;  no  one  should 
venture  to  treat  him  thus  unpunished.  He  did 
not  love  her ;  no,  he  hated  her,  and  that  was 
why  she  should  he  his !  If  not !  —  This  brief 
train  of  thought  kept  revolving  round  and  round 


120  CAPTAIN  MANS  ANA. 

in  his  mind.  The  air  was  filled  with  confused 
pictures  of  his  comrades  standing  in  groups 
laughing  at  him.  He  certainly  had  been  made 
a  fool  of  by  a  little  girl  just  out  of  a  convent, 
and  a  little  lieutenant  just  out  of  school ! 

How  it  had  come  so  far  that  this  conflict  with 
two  insignificant  children  should  be  the  end  of 
his  proud  career,  he  could  not  make  clear  to 
himself. 

Princess  Leaney's  image  —  which  during  his 
first  excitement  rarely  rose  up  before  him  and 
was  angrily  thrust  aside  when  it  did  appear  — 
kept  growing  clearer  and  clearer  the  more  ex- 
hausted and  ashamed  he  became.  She  was 
the  goal  of  the  life  for  which  he  was  destined, 
BO  lofty  was  his  aim !  And  he  thought  no 
longer  of  her  rank,  but  of  the  glowing  course  of 
her  thoughts,  of  the  beauty  of  her  presence,  ex- 
alted by  the  admiration  of  all  mortals. 

Amanda's  image  sank  away  at  the  same  time. 
He  was  not  sure  but  that  she  was  round-shoul- 
dered. He  was  actually  able  to  speculate  upon 
this. 

People  who  have  made  us  ridiculous  in  our 
own  eyes  and  those  of  others  are  not  very  apt 
to  be  the  gainers  thereby.  And  when  Man- 
sana  had  reached  the  point  where  he  could  dis- 
cover that  Amanda's  figure  was  awkward,  hei 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA  121 

face  and  conversation  insignificant,  her  voice 
drawling,  her  hair  absurdly  arranged,  her  flat- 
tery much  too  soft  and  insinuating,  he  asked 
himself  if  it  would  not  be  the  most  ludicrous 
thing  in  the  world  to  compel  such  a  person  to 
become  Signora  Mansana.  No,  there  was  some- 
thing that  would  be  still  more  absurd,  and  that 
was  to  kill  himself  for  her  sake. 

What  should  he  do,  then  ?  Go  back  to  the 
princess  ?  That  path  was  barred  —  barred  by 
his  pride  a  hundred  thousand  times  I  Past 
Amanda  and  onward,  to  the  Spanish  civil  war, 
for  instance  ?  An  adventurer's  career,  hollow, 
empty  I     Just  as  well  end  his  life  at  home. 

Turn  back  and  let  all  be  as  before?  The 
princess  lost,  the  admiration  of  his  comrades 
lost,  faith  in  himself  lost !  The  only  way  in 
which  he  could  return  was  at  her  side,  that 
cursed  little  woman  !  With  her  by  the  hand  he 
could  appear  as  victor,  and  if  he  must  pay  for 
this  prize  with  an  unhappy  life,  so  it  must  be. 
His  honor  would  then  be  saved,  and  no  one 
should  be  allowed  to  read  his  soul. 

There  would  be  actual  glory  in  having  re- 
jected a  wealthy  princess,  and  captured  the 
daughter  of  a  poor  pensioned  officer,  in  a  con- 
vict even  with  herself  I  But  the  moment  he 
reached  this  conclusion,  his  soul  revolted  at  all 


122  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

the  deception  which  such  an  honor  as  this  must 
contain.  He  sprang  up  from  his  seat  in  the 
compartment,  but  sat  down  again ;  —  there  were 
several  passengers  within. 

The  train  proceeded  onward  toward  his  goal. 
What  a  goal !  Ruin  was  inevitable,  his  life 
must  surely  be  sacrificed  to  honor ;  and  this 
whether  honor  was  attained  or  no. 

The  merciful  power  of  sleep  intervened. 
He  dreamed  of  his  mother.  Her  large,  noble 
eyes  hung  over  him  like  a  heaven.  He  wept 
and  was  awakened.  There  was  an  old  man 
in  the  compartment  who  was  deeply  affected 
by  his  tears.  Just  then  the  train  stopped. 
They  were  in  the  vicinity  of  Naples ;  Mansana 
got  out.  The  morning  was  glorious.  The  clear 
sky,  bordered  by  the  faint  outlines  of  the  chain 
of  hills,  served  as  a  reminder  and  a  warning ; 
he  shivered  in  the  chill  morning  air  and  re- 
turned to  the  smoke  of  the  locomotive  which 
was  just  starting,  to  the  rumbling  and  din  of 
the  train  as  it  stormed  onward,  and  to  his  own 
stinging  thoughts. 

Farther  on,  as  they  passed  along  the  sea- 
shore, he  would  have  given  much  if  the  train 
had  deviated  from  its  course  and  slowly  and 
smoothly  glided  out  into  the  trackless  waters. 
What  gentle  deliverance  in  such  a  death  I 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  123 

He  hid  himself  in  his  corner  when  the  train 
stopped  at  Naples ;  in  the  vast  human  throng 
about  the  station  there  might  be  some  one  who 
knew  him.  The  day  became  more  and  more 
glorious  while  the  train  glided  through  the 
coast  towns  along  the  sea ;  the  sun  was  mild  as 
on  a  summer  morning,  and  its  rays  in  the  hazy 
sea  atmosphere  cast  a  tinge  over  mountain,  sea, 
and  the  entire  landscape.  When  he  got  out  of 
the  compartment  and  was  driving  toward  his 
destination,  and  still  more  after  he  had  dis- 
missed the  carriage  and  was  climbing  the  steep 
cliffs,  with  the  sea  at  his  feet  and  the  grand 
view  over  the  gulf,  bordered  with  islands  that 
looked  like  shapeless  sea-monsters  on  guard, 
and  with  mountains  under  the  dominion  of 
Vesuvius  and  towns  gleaming  white  beneath 
a  slow  smoke,  then  he  felt  a  sense  of  life — not 
his  own  life  which  was  but  a  chase  after  honor, 
a  struggle,  he  knew  not  himself  for  what,  now 
that  this  struggle  had  ended  in  absolutely 
nothing  —  no,  life  as  it  was  meant  to  be  be- 
neath God's  high  arching  heavens,  in  the  splen- 
dor of  His  glory  which  overspread  all  nature 
and  thus  extended  beyond  the  goal  which  life 
usually  marks  out. 

He  approached  the  last  hill,  on  which  the 
house  he  was  seeking  was  situated.     Soon  he 


l24  CAPTAIN   MANS  ANA. 

saw  the  house,  which  stood  beyond  the  summit 
of  the  hill,  surrounded  by  a  high,  sharp-pointed 
iron  fence.  Then  his  heart  began  to  throb. 
There  could  be  no  mistake ;  he  had,  moreover, 
taken  the  route  accurately  pointed  out  by  the 
coachman. 

So  this  was  the  place  I  And  before  his 
feelings  were  clear  to  his  own  mind,  she  ap- 
peared on  the  balcony,  she,  Amanda,  in  her 
bright  morning  gown,  with  a  smile  on  her  lijjs, 
as  if  she  had  said  or  heard  something  amusing 
as  she  stepped  out.  She  saw  him  at  once,  ut- 
tered her  well-known  scream  and  ran  in. 

As  a  weary  huntsman  when  suddenly  brought 
face  to  face  with  his  game  regains  all  his  elas- 
ticity, so  Mansana  felt  rising  within  him  a  wild 
power,  an  untamed  purpose,  and  before  he 
knew  what  he  was  about,  he  stood  at  the  gate 
of  the  iron  fence  and  had  bounded  over  it  with- 
out ringing  the  bell.  Controlled  by  his  own 
lively  emotions,  all  his  warrior-like  instincts 
were  aroused  ;  he  turned  at  once  and  possessed 
himself  of  the  key  which  was  on  the  inner 
side  of  the  gate.  The  door  to  the  house  was 
half  closed ;  he  pushed  it  open.  He  was  ad- 
mitted to  a  large,  bright  vestibule.  Colored 
glass  cast  its  own  peculiar  play  over  some  small 
statues,  a  mosaic  inlaid  stone  floor  and  vases, 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  125 

filled  with  palms,  fan-palms,  and  flowers.  On 
a  pair  of  antique  sofas  were  lying,  on  one  a 
straw  hat  with  blue  ribbons  —  was  it  hers  ?  — 
on  the  other  a  parasol  of  a  peculiar  watered 
material  with  a  costly  carved  handle  whose  end 
was  studded  with  a  large  blue  stone.  He  rec- 
ognized it,  and  a  wounded  feeling  followed  the 
recollections  evoked,  but  he  made  no  effort  to 
explain  this.  For  now  he  rang  the  bell.  He 
must  make  haste. 

No  one  came  to  open  the  door.  He  began  to 
shiver,  then  tried  to  control  himself,  but  failed. 
He  could  not  remain  longer  thus.  If  he  could 
not  execute  his  purpose  at  once  he  was  lost. 
He  rang  once  more.  His  will  rose  with  the 
act.  Now  it  was  necessary  to  make  or  break. 
The  door  to  the  room  opened,  a  bright  light 
flooded  the  vestibule  ;  the  stained  glass  did  not 
permit  him  to  see  more  than  that  the  person 
who  was  approaching  and  who  closed  the  door 
behind  her  was  blue  and  tall.  As  soon  as  the 
door  was  closed  all  became  dark  in  the  hall. 
Who  could  it  be  ?  Might  not  the  house  chance 
to  be  filled  with  people?  An  actual  terror 
seized  him  at  this  thought,  which  had  not  oc- 
curred to  him  a  moment  before.  What  mad 
pranks,  what  complications,  what  interferences, 
and  inconvenient  persons  might  not  here  assail 


126      .  CAPTAIN  MANS  ANA. 

him !  He  was  perhaps  entering  a  bee-hive  of 
provoked  anger  and  resistance  ;  it  might  prove 
to  be  a  fool's  errand  he  was  on  !  No,  on  such 
an  errand  he  would  not  go  a  second  time  !  And 
he  put  on  the  wliole  armor  of  his  will,  and 
made  sure  that  his  weapon  was  by  him.  Then 
the  large  door  was  thrown  wide  open,  and  be- 
fore him  in  the  lofty  doorway  — 

Yes,  there  in  the  lofty  doorway  stood  The- 
resa Leaney,  clad  in  blue,  and  very  pale. 

And  he  ?  He  stood  there  motionless,  his 
self-possession  gone. 

The  door  was  wide  open ;  they  stood  on 
either  side  of  the  threshold.  Silent  as  them- 
selves was  all  within  and  without.  At  last  she 
extended  her  right  hand.  There  ran  a  tremor 
through  his  frame ;  she  stretched  out  both 
arms  ;  he  rushed  into  her  ready  embrace  with 
a  ring  like  that  of  an  instrument  which  has 
been  struck.  And  he  took  her  up  in  his  arms, 
bore  her  out  to  the  sofa,  sat  down  with  her  on 
his  lap,  plunged  his  head  against  her  bosom, 
and  clasping  her  in  a  warm  embrace,  rose  up 
with  her  in  his  arms,  sat  down  again  and  broke 
into  the  most  vehement  flood  of  tears  on  hei 
bosom.     Not  a  word  of  explanation  I 

He  finally  put  her  down  beside  him  on  the 
Bofa  and  flung  himself  on  his  knees.     He  gazed 


CAPTAIN   MANSANA.  127 

with  boundless  admiration  into  her  smiling  face. 
Now  he  was  overcome,  conquered ;  never  in  the 
world  would  it  have  been  well  with  Giuseppe 
Mansana  had  it  not  been  so. 

And  when,  in  burning  gratitude,  he  raised 
his  eyeS;  purified  by  this  feeling  of  humility,  it 
was  not  hers  they  met ;  they  fell  on  another 
behind  him  —  there  stood  his  mother. 

Both  he  and  Theresa  arose.  Instinctively  he 
sought  his  mother's  hands.  When  he  held 
them  in  his  own  he  kissed  them,  and  once  more 
falling  on  his  knees  guided  them  to  his  head. 
What  had  he  not  experienced  since  he  had 
so  defiantly  met  her  gaze  beside  his  father's 
bier. 

Mansana  never  got  beyond  the  entrance  of 
this  house.  The  two  ladies  went  back  to  say 
farewell ;  he  preceded  them  down  the  hill. 
Why  precede  them  ?  Because  he  wanted  to 
put  a  key  quietly  in  the  gate,  and  because  he 
wished,  in  all  haste  and  shame,  to  fling  a  re- 
volver into  the  sea.  These  things  accomplished, 
he  sank  down  on  a  stone,  overwhelmed  wdth 
fear,  joy,  gratitude,  dismay,  —  all  inextricably 
blended.  The  tvo  who  followed  him,  accom- 
panied by  a  servant  with  their  luggage,  saw 
him  sitting  below  the  road,  with  his  head  in  his 


128  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

hands.  They  walked  together  to  the  railway 
station. 

He  did  not  need  to  hear  much  in  order  to  un- 
derstand how  this  meeting  had  come  about.  It 
was  Sardi  who  had  summoned  them  ;  they  had 
sought  Luigi  Borghi  in  hopes  that  he  would  be 
informed  about  the  Brandinis,  and  that  Man- 
sana  would  sooner  or  later  find  his  way  to  them. 
That  was  why  Luigi  had  been  so  courageously 
frank,  because  he  knew  the  two  ladies  to  be  al- 
ready at  his  mother's  house. 

Mansana  had  relapsed  into  silence. 

The  wise  mother  had  a  foreboding  of  danger, 
and  begged  for  rest  at  Naples,  declaring  that 
she  needed  it  herself.  They  went  to  a  quiet 
suburban  hotel.  Here,  after  much  resistance, 
Mansana's  mother  got  him  to  bed.  And  when 
at  last  he  slept,  it  seemed  as  though  he  would 
never  again  awaken.  Almost  the  whole  of  the 
next  day  passed.  When  he  did  awake  he  found 
himself  alone ;  he  was  confused  and  became 
alarmed,  but  a  few  trifles  in  the  room  reminded 
him  of  his  mother  and  Theresa ;  he  laid  back 
again  and  slept  like  a  happy  child.  This  time, 
however,  he  did  not  sleep  as  long  as  before,  for 
hunger  awoke  him.  He  ate,  but  fell  asleep 
again.  For  several  days  and  nights  he  slept, 
almost  without  interruption.    But  when  he  rosa 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  129 

from  his  couch  he  was  very  quiet.     He  retired 
more  and  more  into  brooding  silence. 

This  was  just  what  his  mother  had  antici- 
pated. 


CHAPTER    XIV. 


The  end  shall  be  told  by  a  letter  from  The- 
resa Leaney  to  Mansana's  mother.  It  was 
dated  from  the  writer's  estate  in  Hungary,  not 
long  after  the  events  last  related. 

Beloved  Mother,  —  At  last  you  shall  have 
a  connected  account  of  everything  since  we 
parted  at  Naples.  If  I  repeat  anything  that  I 
have  written  before  you  must  pardon  me. 

Well,  then,  after  our  marriage  his  illness  gave 
place  to  an  eager,  humble  zeal  in  serving  me, 
which  made  me  anxious,  for  it  was  so  unlike 
him.  Upon  the  whole  he  was  neither  confid- 
ing nor  self-reliant,  until  after  we  had  been  in 
the  town  where  he  was  last  stationed.  He  un- 
derstood perfectly  why  you  wished  us  to  go 
there  first.  Ah,  how  amiable  he  was  there  I 
He  began  forthwith  to  run  the  gauntlet  among 
his  comrades,  I  may  say  in  the  most  dauntless 


130  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

manner.  I  can  tell  you,  furthermore,  about  a 
young  wife  who  aided  him.  She  had  never 
been  happier  or  more  elegant,  you  see,  than 
when  she  became  the  companion  of  her  noble 
husband  in  his  humiliation ;  every  movement, 
every  expression  of  her  face,  every  word, 
seemed,  as  it  were,  freighted  with  "  If  /  say 
nothing,  who  then  dare  say  a  word  ?  " 

I  am,  alas,  still  so  much  of  a  coquette  that  I 
have  a  great  desire  to  inform  you  how  I  was 
dressed  each  of  these  three  days.  (I  had  sent 
to  Ancona  for  my  maid  and  my  wardrobe.) 
But  I  will  meekly  hold  my  peace. 

I  am  perfectly  sure,  though,  that  dearly  as  a 
certain  young  wife  was  loved  after  those  three 
days'  running  the  gauntlet  in  this  mountain 
town,  not  many  women  have  been  loved ;  for 
there  is  power  in  the  temperament  you  yourself 
have  given  from  your  own  soul,  you  delightful 
being. 

Nor  must  I  forget  to  sound  the  praises  of 
the  man  Sardi.  For  he  is  a  man.  He  had  done 
Buch  a  good  thing,  in  announcing  that  Man- 
eana  was  ill,  —  which  he  truly  was,  —  and  that 
you  and  I  were  his  physicians.  The  good  for- 
tune of  it  all  is  that  he  who  has  won  fame 
among  his  comrades  has  also  laid  up  in  their 
hearts  treasures  on  which  he  may  draw  for  a 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  181 

long  time  before  they  are  exhausted.  People 
will  think  well  of  Giuseppe  Mansana.  He  felt 
this,  the  dear  man,  and  it  made  him  very  hum- 
ble ;  for  he  was  sorely  oppressed  by  the  thought 
that  he  did  not  deserve  it. 

In  Ancona  everything  went  smoothly  ;  the 
stubbornness  of  his  nature  was  conquered.  And 
now  he  is  all  mine,  —  mine  the  strongest  nature 
in  the  world,  purified  and  ennobled,  —  mine  the 
most  considerate  of  masters,  the  most  attentive 
of  servants,  —  mine  the  most  manly  lover  that 
ever  Italian  girl  won.  Pardon  my  strong  ex- 
pressions ;  I  know  you  do  not  like  them,  but 
they  must  come. 

At  Bologna  —  aye,  you  see  I  fly  —  we  were 
walking  about  and  chanced  to  pass  the  munic- 
ipal building.  There  hang  two  marble  tablets 
bearing  the  names  of  those  who  fell  in  the 
struggle  for  the  town's  freedom.  Giuseppe's 
arm  trembled,  and  to  this  circumstance  it  was 
due  that  we  had  a  conversation  than  which 
nothing  could  form  a  surer  foundation  for  our 
union. 

You  know,  beloved  mother,  how  my  eyes 
were  opened  during  the  time  when  I  was  griev- 
ing over  the  wrong  I  had  done  Giuseppe  through 
my  despicable  caprices,  which  nearly  cost  him 
his  life  and  both  of   us  our  happiness.     You 


182  CAPTAIN  JIANSANA. 

know  that  my  soul  is  daily  racked  with  indig- 
nation against  those  public  affairs  that  breed 
in  us  defiance,  hatred,  frenzied  fanaticism,  cul- 
pable intolerauce.  Unwholesome,  unnatural 
public  affairs  poison  a  community  and  do  more 
harm  than  the  most  miserable  open  warfare  ; 
for  there  is  no  possibility  of  estimating  how 
much  spiritual  strength  they  consume,  how 
many  hearts  they  bereave,  how  many  homes 
they  lay  waste !  I  assure  you,  mother,  that  a 
land  which,  for  instance,  has  made  an  unjust 
conquest,  captured  what  belongs  to  others, 
transforms  a  whole  community  into  sharers  of 
its  guilt,  lowers  the  general  moral  standard, 
sharpens  the  pen  of  the  strategist,  the  crow-bar 
of  the  burglar,  the  harsh  words  of  the  com- 
mander —  ah !  it  drives  the  heart  from  its 
rights  in  the  family  and  in  society  I 

There  are  some  stupid  verses  that  were  writ- 
ten about  me  by  an  enamored  fool ;  not  one 
word  in  them  is  true.  But  do  you  know, 
dearest  mother,  I  feel  now  that  had  I  not  met 
Giuseppe,  those  lines  might  one  day  have  be- 
come true,  for  stupid  and  heartless  as  they  are 
I  would  finally  have  become  equally  stupid  and 
heartless !  And  why  so  ?  Because  the  un- 
happy state  of  public  affairs  had  strewed  poison 
into  my  existence. 


CAPTAIN  MANSANA.  138 

And  my  confessions  were  brought  face  to 
face  with  Giuseppe's.  That  defiant,  vain  will  of 
his  had  so  entirely  become  his  master  that  the 
most  trifling  and  chance  interference  might 
easily  have  cost  him  his  life,  the  most  acci- 
dental aim  have  changed  his  course.  But  this 
defiant,  vain  will,  —  in  what  atmosphere  was  it 
bred? 

We  gave  each  other  the  most  complete  con- 
fidence, that  evening  at  Bologna.  And  then 
for  the  first  time  everything  seemed  so  secure  ; 
ah,  so  secure! 

Here,  on  my  dearly  loved  estate  he  has  now 
set  to  work.  All  was  chaos  here,  and  he  has 
something  now  on  which  he  can  exercise  his 
will !  He  wishes  to  resign  ;  he  is  determined 
to  be  no  longer  a  peace  officer.  He  needs  a 
fixed  goal,  and  one  that  is  close  at  hand ;  if  I 
divine  rightly  it  is  the  one  which  lies  hidden 
from  the  world  that  is  dearest  to  him. 

Thus,  at  all  events,  matters  stand  for  the 
present.  What  later  developments  may  arise 
T  know  not.  But  I  do  know  that  if  ever  Italy 
be  in  danger,  he  will  be  one  of  the  first  —  and 
ihat  in  all  respects. 

God  bless  you!  Come  up  here  soon.  You 
must  see  him  in  his  busy  life,  and  you  must  see 
him  with  me.     Has  ever  mortal  at  any  time 


134  CAPTAIN  MANSANA. 

had  so  considerate  a  husband,  so  noble  a  lover? 
Ah,  I  forgot  —  my  extravagant  expressions  are 
not  allowed,  and  yet  I  assure  you  they  are  the 
only  ones  I  can  use  I 

I  love  you,  I  long  to  embrace  you  again  and 
again,  and  kiss  yon,  beloved  mother  of  my  joy ! 

Darling,  sorely -tried  woman,  from  whose 
eyes  go  forth  a  song  of  praise,  from  whose  lips 
words  of  consolation  and  help  fall  so  refresh- 
ingly I  You,  aye  you,  must  bow  your  white 
head  in  prayer  over  our  happiness,  that  it  may 
be  blessed  I  Listen  I  You  must  be  our  teacher 
that  the  evil  days  may  not  come  too  soon. 

Your  son's  wife,  your  own,  your  faithful 

Thbbbsa. 


MAY  1  6  1979 

DATE  DUE 

INTERU 

JP  ft  7?  Y     1'  f' 

f  '-f'-'^" 

OCT  0  4  ]< 

84 

GAYLORD 

PRINTED  IN  U    S    A 

i    3  1970  00226  6796 


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